


The Autumn Assignment

by Sivvus



Series: Empowered [1]
Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, The Immortals - Tamora Pierce, The Song of the Lioness - Tamora Pierce, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artefact, Blood Magic, Books, Civil War, Complete, Cults, Despotism, Dictatorship, F/M, Family History, High School, Immortality, Immortals, Legends, Lucid Dreaming, Magic-Users, Mystery, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Prophecy, Safe Haven, Science Fiction, Storytelling, relic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 07:05:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 57,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3165839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sivvus/pseuds/Sivvus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Tortallan history student's research into the forgotten Immortals war and the Mages who disappeared afterwards reveals a bond between the heroes of the past and of the modern day Tortall. Complete! </p><p>Sequel is now being posted: 'Powercuts'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story about five years ago but I'm posting it here on A03 as a new work because I'm currently working on the sequel. 
> 
> For the parts of this story set in the present day I have based the Tortallan school system on the British public education system, because it's the only one I know. I think the main differences are in the Terms, usually 2 lots of 5 weeks, (Which, I think in America is called a Semester) and the classes. The Advanced History course, for example, is an A2 which we would take at age 17-18.

_This story is set in Tortall, several centuries after the end of the immortals war._

_The world has evolved._

_Magic, Gods, Demons and Warriors have all become common enough in legends, but are slowly dying out in the modern world. Mages are no longer as common, monsters no longer terrorise the people, and heroes have faded into dispute._

_History has become fragmented. Without magical preservation, many historic accounts, books and documents have disintegrated. The people view the Immortals war, the warriors and victims, with suspicion._

_As far as modern Tortall is concerned, the "Tortallan Ages" have been forgotten. All that is left is folk stories._

_Electronics, feminism, universal agnosticism and all other aspects of what we call modern culture have developed. Without the dependency on magic, people have developed technologies very similar to ours on earth._

 

888

 

"It was a time of was a time of creation and discoveries, hindered only by the threat of war. It was a time of passion and purity, violence and bloodshed. From this age come our legends, our beliefs, even some of the mechanical inventions that have shaped our modern world.

It was…it _is…_

…a waste of time."

Daniel sniffed and slammed the book shut, nearly tearing the cheap paper cover as people giggled around him. "It's all a load of rubbish!" He declared a second time, tossing the book onto the cold stone floor. The Advanced History class was glad of the diversion- last lesson on Friday always seemed to drag, especially in the Autumn. Most sat staring out of the window, gloomily watching the sky growing darker and damper and colder, just ready to rain while they were walking home…

"Is it the assignment you have a problem with, or just the school property?" The dry voice cut through the class. Daniel looked up at the teacher. To his surprise, the woman's expression wasn't angry, merely curious. He fumbled for an answer, disarmed by the cold silence.

"Well…"

"Because, Daniel, if you have a genuine issue with the curriculum, I'd be more than happy to assign you another project." The teacher's eyes sharpened as she glared around the silent room. "The same applies to all of you. I'm sure Mr. Kitwake has a perfectly logical reason not to spend his precious time studying history."

"Um." Said Daniel.

"So, please- share your unjustified opinions with the rest of the class!" The teacher smiled brightly and sat back down at her desk, interlacing her fingers and watching him with feigned anticipation. The class giggled again, this time at the gangly teenager as he stuttered awkwardly.

"Well, I…um… the thing is, is this really history? I mean, I heard all these stories when I was a kid, and… well… they're just _stories._ There's no proof. They're things you tell to kids to get them to behave."

"Interesting. That's actually a valid point!" The teacher smiled at the mock applause from the rest of the group. "It's true there is little evidence. Can anyone give me an example?"

"Immortals!" Piped up a thin, reedy voice from the back of the room. Daniel rolled his eyes, waiting for Joe's usual nerdy answer. Next to him, Katie mimed retching. "One of the inconsistencies is immortals! The barrier broke, and then there was a war against them, and then they all disappeared again! And since then there's been no reappearance, and no skeletons or remains of any of the creatures. So it can't have happened!"

"Didn't people disappear, too?" Katy said slowly, her interest caught. "There are graves and stuff for some of the people in the stories, but not for the others. Others that you'd think would have graves, I mean."

Daniel shrugged, remembering a very tedious visit to one of the ancient temples to Mithros from the last term. "Like: that Conte king was buried, and the queen, but none of the warriors or mages that they were supposed to be so close to. I reckon they made the stories up, to glorify their country. They could have done it for trade… or something stupid like that."

The teacher held up a hand, silencing the class instantly. "This is why you've been given this assignment. You have until the end of term to research, and write a paper, on the differences between the legends and the history of the Tortallan Age. You are expected to show careful research, logical reasoning, and imagination. This does not mean I want thirty different stories about The Lioness, or the Black Mage, or the Giantkiller on my desk. You are historians, not writers. I expect a full bibliography at the end, and quotes in every paragraph, and at least ten sides of A4!" She smiled as the group groaned theatrically.

"But the good news is- this is an open assignment. You don't have to come into class for the rest of the Autumn term, except to hand me all your lovely essays!" She waved a hand in dismissal as the school bell rang. "Now, scat!"

"I hate that teacher." Daniel muttered to himself as he picked the textbook up from the floor. Katy grinned at him as she stood up, stuffing her own textbook into her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

"I think she delights in torturing you…" She cackled in a fake 'witch' voice. "Giving you all this free time until the winter term! How horrible!"

"Drop dead." He said absently, examining the book. "Hey, some moron's written all over this book. How am I supposed to study from this?"

Katy pursed her lips and squinted over his shoulder. The book's cover had been completely covered in scrawled graffiti, the words "A History of Tortall" barely visible under the black ink.

"Apparently, someone shares your taste in history." She said, "Look, 'Fairy stories are for kids'. Right under the author's name."

"Yeah- and "J.B. is fit" right under that. I agree with everything this book says!" Daniel ducked his friend's playful swipe and stood up. "I guess I'd better be going. Mom wants me to babysit tonight."

No that there's much to it. He thought later, as he watched his baby sister attempt to eat her own foot. The autumn rain that had been looming over them all afternoon had broken just as his mother was climbing into her taxi, adding a depth of gloom to an otherwise…gloomy…day.

"Stoy!" Declared baby Leanne happily, her voice muffled by her foot. Daniel peered over the edge of the cot at her, wondering if he'd have a chance to sneak round the corner shop before she started her nightly crying fit. She seemed happy enough, her blue eyes sparkling indigo in the electric lights. He stood up just as thunder growled across the sky.

Leanne screwed up her eyes and wailed. The sound made her brother jump, the involuntary action making his hand slam against the sharp corner of a cabinet.

"Damn it!" He yelled, shaking a hand in which every bone was screaming. The baby sobbed harder. Daniel gritted his teeth and picked up his sister.

"Shh, shh, little pest, I didn't mean it." He muttered soothingly. The baby hiccoughed a few times.

"Stoy?" She said again, patting his cheek with a sticky hand.

"Not tonight, Lee, I have to start my history project." Daniel put her back in the cot and opened his bag. Leanne peered at the textbook blearily and pointed at the first page.

"Stoy!"

"….yeah. Sure. It's a story." Daniel glared at her and opened the book. "It's a really boring story that I have to study."

"Stoy!" Leanne said happily and sat down in the cot, smiling at her brother. Daniel sighed and flicked to the first page after the sentimental drivelled introduction he'd read in class.

"Fine, Leanne. You're the boss. _Five years after the end of the first " immortals war" (cross ref. page 43, also "Chaos War") the established monarchy of Tortall called a meeting of the great minds of the era. The purpose of this meeting was to tell them…"_


	2. Chapter 2

"Can I have your attention, please!" King Jonathan yelled over the dull roar of noise. The small audience chamber was full to bursting with mages, warriors, councillors and nobles, all chattering nervously at the unexpected summons.

None of them seemed to hear him. Most of the talk was kept to a respectful murmur in deference to the King's presence- but the wards on the walls stopped any noise from escaping, so it simply built up. Add to that (Jonathan gritted his teeth in annoyance) that a certain lioness was complaining emphatically about the crowded quarters, and Mithros knows you couldn't have Lindhall and Numair in the same room for more than thirty seconds without a debate starting, and…

…and no-one was paying him any attention.

Right.

He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled piercingly, amplifying the sound with his gift until nearly everyone had clapped their hands over their ears. Alanna folded her arms and glared instead.

"Thank you for your undivided attention." Jon started again, trying not to smirk at the expressions on the nobles' faces. "If you will please take a seat?"

The chattering started up again at a more subdued volume as each person sat down at the long table that ran through the chamber. Fifty curious expressions looked at the King as he sat down.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're all here."

"I'll say." Someone muttered sarcastically. Jonathan rolled his eyes.

"You always say, Alanna. If you'll stop saying for a minute, I can tell you the answer." He dropped the levity and frowned at some of the papers in front of him. "I'd like to call on my chief clerk to explain the situation, since he was the one who discovered it."

He sat down as the clerk stood up- a short, wiry man with immaculately neat hair and a nervous tic in one eye. As every eye turned to the nervous clerk, he coughed nervously and picked up a sheet of papers.

"Um. It's been a month since the end of the war. Um, this being… A month since the divine war with chaos ended- and closer to home, a month since the leaders of the attacking force were defeated!" He tried a grin, that was met with deadpan expressions. He started again with a stutter. "D-duh-during this time the army has been running cleanup sweeps of hostile immortals and…um… rogue bandit troops. Palace informants in each patrol have reported back to us… t-to his majesty King Jonathan, I mean…"

"We know who you mean. Get to the point!" Alanna cut in loudly, making the man jump and drop the papers. He hesitated for a second, as if to pick them up, then met her violet glare and gulped.

"The number of bandit troops has decreased. The..the number of hostile mortals has increased."

"Increased how?" Another woman asked abruptly. "Most of them have been sent back. So how can there be more of them?"

Jonathan shrugged and gestured to the relieved clerk to sit down. "I don't know, Daine. But the evidence is sound. For example, from there being seven attacking packs of spidren in the royal forest, there are now twelve. Fishermen have reported twice the number of nesting Hurrocks on the cliffs around Pirate's Swoop.

"But if they're nesting…" she started, but the king shook his head impatiently.

"We'd expect a slight increase- but these are all adult, and all hostile. If their numbers continue to swell they could become a serious threat. Especially since they wiped out five hundred of our allied immortal comrades this morning."

Shocked gasps rippled around the table.

"Where on earth did they come from?" Alanna asked. Jonathan shrugged again.

"We don't know. We think there's a problem with the Barrier."

"Besides it… being gone, you mean?" Someone asked sheepishly. Jon spread his hands hopelessly.

"That's what we've been lead to believe. Spies and researchers have found some of the documents that Ozorne used to bring down the barrier, but a lot of them are missing. We don't know what spells they were using. Maybe they found a way to…manufacture immortals." He pulled a face to show how he thought of that particular explanation.

"Surely the gods would know about this?" An insecure looking noble with the emblem of Mithros threaded around his neck trebled. He twisted this symbol nervously as every face in the room turned to look at him. Daine shook her head and tried to explain,

"If it's just a small break in the barrier, then they might not notice. They're used to looking for larger problems- especially at the moment."

The man clutched the symbol tighter and looked down his nose at her. "What do you know of the Gods, little girl? I am a disciple of Mithros!"

"Can we move on?" Jonathan cut in quickly. "I asked you all to come here because you are the best, most powerful people in the kingdom. Between you, you should be able to help deal with this.

If you own land, then ask your serfs and labourers to count immortal nests- look for odd behaviour, possible gateways between the realms. Use your eyes.

If you are a knight or commander, then mobilise your troops. Keep morale up, but make sure they know they're not going to be able to go on leave. Go into the forests, the mountains, and look for immortals. If they're hostile, kill them.

If you are a mage, then start scrying the land. Try to feel the divine barrier- try to fix it.

If you are a priest, then start praying. We're going to need it." The king finished grimly. He looked up at the ashen faces around him- some of them gaping openly. "Well, what are you staring at? Get going!"

The nobles started drifting out of the door at a leisurely pace, talking quietly to their neighbours. Jonathan gritted his teeth until the last one had disappeared and then slammed the door shut behind them.

"That went well." Said a voice from behind him. Jon leaned wearily against the door, not looking around.

"They're nobles because they own a lot of money, Alanna, not because they're worth it. One must be tolerant."

"Rubbish. You want to kick them in the head as much as we do." The woman's voice was light, but the comment had none of it's usual vigour. "By the sound of it, they won't be able to do much anyway. How can we fix the divine barrier?"

Jonathan turned around, his face now showing the true helplessness he had hidden in the presence of the nobles. As well as Alanna, Daine, Numair and Lindhall had chosen to stay behind- the latter two were in avid conversation and apparently oblivious to the rest of the world. Daine was sitting next to Numair, her grey eyes worried as she stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. Jonathan sat back down at the table and rested his head in his hands.

"Do you want me to speak to the immortals?" Daine asked quietly, "It may not help any, but… It is the most obvious thing to do."

"No."

"Don't you think…?" She started, then stopped as he held up a hand.

"I lied to the nobles." He said, his voice suddenly much more ragged. Numair and Lindhall looked up, pulled out of their conversation by the pure despair in his tone. "The hostile tribes attacked simultaneously this morning across Tortall, but they didn't kill five hundred of our allies- they very nearly wiped them all out. We've lost contact with most of the packs in the forest. They're hunting them to extinction, completely unprovoked and seemingly at random. There's no-one left for you to speak to."


	3. Chapter 3

Daniel frowned at the book, trying to work out what was confusing him about it. The clerk's notes were dry and factual, hardly the stuff of legends... and yet they were all there, all recorded as real people: the Lioness, the Black Mage, the Wild Mage, their names as common and ordinary as mud. The King sounded no more interesting than the driest politician. In fact, the whole thing read like a history book.

...except, they were talking about the Immortals.

...except, they were talking about magic.

It was unreal.

The only real detail the clerk had gone into was about the report on the falling of the immortals. Daniel recognised half the report- it was commonly quoted as the point where the immortals disappeared. But he'd never heard the part about the hostile immortals before...

...and then the clerk left with the rest of the nobles, and the rest of the chapter commented on the actions of the nobles- the research, the discoveries, the panic, the successful battles and the slaughters. But it didn't make sense...

The schoolboy flicked back through the pages, back to the first part of the report. Yes- there they were, clear and obvious, the warriors of legend.

But they didn't leave the room.

Daniel wondered why not. He wondered what they had been talking about, what they decided to do. He flicked through the rest of the book, but could find no other mention of their names.

A strange light made him look up. The room was still, the storm over. Leanne had been quiet since he read her the chapter, now she was gurgling happily at the source of the light.

Daniel saw the glowing orbs of light dancing across the top of the cot, and flinched as his sister giggled.

"Stop it!" He yelled, dropping the book hastily on the floor. It fell with a loud tearing sound, but he ignored it as he picked up his sister and shook her. "Stop it, Leanne! Do you hear me, stop it!"

The baby stared at him, not understanding, and screwed up her face. As she began to cry, the light orbs flickered and died, as if they'd never been there. Daniel hugged the baby to him, almost feeling like crying himself. She didn't understand, she was too young, too innocent, and she didn't understand...

He'd have to make her understand, that was all. He held her up, away from him, ignoring her crying, and shook her again. "Bad, Leanne, No, Leanne!" He said, over and over again, repeating it until it was all he could think about... bad Leanne, you don't use magic in this house. No, Leanne, no matter how unhappy you are, there can be no excuse...

After a few minutes her crying was too much for him to bear. Praying to Mithros that the lesson had sunk in, he held her close and hugged her. The little girl snuffled, wondering what she'd done that was so terrible that her own brother would be so mad.

Daniel balanced the infant with one hand against one side of his chest and leaned to pick up the book. It wasn't as badly torn as it had sounded, he realised with relief. He'd thought the entire cover had come off- and with a book this old, it'd cost too much to replace... but the back cover was only slightly ajar, the paper cover on the inside ripped away from the lining.

As much as people have written on this, I don't think they'd notice a tiny tear, Daniel thought, sinking back into the familiar emotions of sarcasm. Just in case, he fiddled with the fold of paper, trying to see if it would fold back into place, or something.

It wouldn't quite fit, almost as if it were too small for the book. Daniel frowned, shifting his heavy sister to the other hand, and checked the front cover. No- this side fitted perfectly, and it was the other half of the same sheet of paper.

He turned back to the other cover and tugged again at the paper. Abruptly it tore out of the book altogether, revealing the rough cardboard of the spine. Tucked between the spine and the cover, the thing that had been blocking the paper, was a small piece of folded notepaper.

Daniel scowled- he loathed mysteries, especially obnoxious messages from the past. If someone had something important to say, why didn't they just say it in the first place instead of wasting people's time? Nevertheless, he unfolded the piece of paper with more than idle curiosity.

He was disappointed- it was just a list of numbers, like any in the library cataloguing system.

20410

67190

23421

18 75

Hardly a mystery, he thought- some idiotic librarian slipping cards into books, must have accidently put a card between the tear in the cover. Unbelievably, the inescapable graffiti had reached even here- some moron had scribbled over the bottom set of numbers, making them almost unreadable.

_Y can't both b tru_

_Cos u can't rite_ The sarcastic part of his mind responded instantly. Bored of this useless detective work, he stood up and carried his sister into the bathroom to bath her for bed.

She was fast asleep by the time his mother returned, tired but cheerful, complaining about the carpool in her usual loud voice. Mrs. Jennifer Kitwake was hardly the sort of person who you'd expect to be a nurse- she was small, bouncy and cheerful, hardly the sort of person you'd expect to be comforting to the sick- and yet she was, making terminal illness slightly more fun for anyone unlucky enough to be treated at the Baird Hospital.

She liked the slightly run-down, low paid hospital more than the larger hospital in the centre of the city- despite being rather dingy, she could choose her hours to spend more time with her family, and got on better with the patients. Daniel personally thought she only worked there to avoid his dad, who worked at the other hospital. Apparently the hospital work had gone well tonight- she sounded cheerful enough. Time to spoil that.

He walked into the lounge with a cup of tea, a time-honoured ritual for the tired single mother and the unpaid babysitter. She smiled at him as she sipped the brown liquid, transported to caffeinated bliss until she saw the expression on his face.

"What is it, sweetie?" She asked, "Homework? School? You're not getting bullied again, are you..."

"It's not me, mom. It's Leanne." He said when she stopped for breath. She instantly paled slightly, compiling her list of questions with admirable speed.

"What's wrong? Is she sick? She doesn't have that nasty 'flu, does she? Oh no, has she got another tooth coming through? The way she was last month..."

"No, she's fine." Daniel said wretchedly. His mother shut up for a second, taking in his face.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense, sweetie." She snapped as he debated how to tell her. He shrugged and just came out with the terrible, horrible news.

"Mom, Leanne has the Gift."

Jennifer's eyes widened as she sucked in a breath that quickly became a sob. Abandoning the tea, she ran to the window and drew the curtains.

"Are you mad?" She hissed, "If anyone knew... if anyone knows..."

"I'm pretty sure no-one saw," he hesitated, "She was playing with coloured lights in her cot. I stopped her as soon as I noticed..."

"As soon as you _noticed?_ Mithros, Mynoss and Shakith!" She cursed loudly. "And what were you doing, that you couldn't keep an eye on your sister? Nose deep in one of your gods-cursed stories again, I bet. Too busy to notice your sister using the gift...dear Gods!"

"I'm sorry! I was studying!" He cried. His mother didn't listen, staring wild-eyed around the room as if one of the Sorrocks was hiding behind the door, waiting to pounce even from this tiny use of magic.

"We'll discuss this tomorrow. Go to your room." She whispered eventually. When Daniel didn't move, she spun around and screamed, "Now!"


	4. Chapter 4

Daniel lingered in his room for as long as he dared the next morning, finding menial chores to do rather than risk coming face to face with his mom. The problem was, he thought, that he was too conscientious to have anything to do before school. He'd already finished all the homework that was due today- basic English essays and math questions that no amount of imagination could stretch out any further. He thought about starting the history assignment, and remembered the torn cover. Glad at having found something to do, he took the book from his bedside cabinet and examined the tear again.

If he took the wedge of paper out, he figured, he could just glue the flyleaf back on. And maybe rub out some of that graffiti while he was at it...

He took the scrap of notepaper out of the book and scowled at it. It smiled back at him. The numbers were written in a strange way, curving around in a happy crescent. It was folded carefully, as if it was very important, but then the writing on it seemed so childish.

He bit his lip thoughtfully. The handwriting... it looked the same as the graffiti writing. Why would someone take so much care over a scrap of paper and then leave it in such a scruffy book? It was so tempting to put it down to mindless idiocy, some bored sixth-former laying a paper chain to nowhere, but something about it nagged at him. He examined the notepaper more closely.

It was a list of numbers, right? Maybe they were page numbers for the book- things that contradicted one another. That would make sense, and explain the random message underneath them.

He checked his watch- ten minutes until he would only be slightly late. Time enough to check. The first number was... 20.

Page twenty was a diagram demonstrating the theory behind the legendary dominion jewel. A fanciful drawing of a shining gem in an ornate golden clasp headed the page. Underneath it was a diagram of a man, the symbol that meant the gift, a crown and a photograph of an idyllic country scene. Arrows littered the page, drawing circuits between one and the other and back again. Idly, he traced the lines with a fingertip. Below the diagram was another, this time demonstrating the carbon cycle and how it paralleled the dominion diagram. The scientists theorised that the dominion jewel was a metaphor for the reign of mage kings. Daniel felt his mind wandering even as he started to read the theory.

Why would the strange graffiti writer want him to see this?

"Daniel!" His mother screamed right outside his door, making him jump. "It's nearly nine-o-clock! What in the name of all that's divine are you doing?"

He threw the book into his bag and ran out of the room, nearly knocking her over as he ran past. He almost made it to the front door before she yelled, "And don't think you've escaped having that chat about your babysitting! You come straight home after school! You're grounded!"

"What?" He skidded to a halt and glared at her, "For how long?"

"Forever!" She shrieked. He rolled his eyes and slammed the door on his way out, raising another volley of yelling. He zipped up the open backpack as he jogged down the street, raising a furious chorus of beeps as he ran across the main road, and made it to his desk just before the bell rang.

The rest of the day carried on as well as schooldays usually did when he arrived slightly late. Everything seemed to go slightly wrong, the questions were much harder than usual, and the customary biro leaked all over his homework, making it illegible. By the end of the day, even the teachers were giving Daniel strange looks.

"Are you alright?" Katy asked at the end of maths, giving in her own pristine homework. Daniel rubbed at the sticky ink that covered his work, glumly knowing it would just make it worse. "You could copy my answers, you know."

"Yeah, but eighty percent of the marks are working-out marks. I'll fail whatever I do."

Katy pursed her lips and waited, then let out a sigh of frustration. "You're welcome!"

"Sorry." Daniel rubbed his eyes tiredly, leaving a blue smear. "Thanks for offering to let me cheat."

"I thought it'd help! What's wrong with you today?"

Daniel thought about telling her, then decided against it. "I... I need to speak to Miss Jensen."

 _Damn it! Where did THAT come from?_ He cursed mentally, then shoved the homework back into his bag. He left the classroom quickly, before his friend could ask any more questions.

But the thought made sense. Now he thought about it, he did have something to ask the history teacher. He headed for her classroom quickly, suddenly desperate to ask her before she left. Some of the teachers escaped from this school almost before their students.

She looked up from her desk when he knocked on the door, frowning slightly. "Mr. Kitwake? What are you doing here? Even you can't have finished that assignment already." She steepled her fingers together and peered over them. "And you never, ever ask for help. So why are you here?"

Daniel blinked- why was she asking so many questions? It wasn't like he'd done anything wrong! He swung his bag from his back and pulled out the book, making sure the scrap of paper didn't fall out. "This book..."

"What have you done to it, you horrible child?" She said, sounding bored rather than angry.

"It was like that when I got it!" Daniel replied, trying not to sound defensive. "Look, I need to know..."

"It wasn't like that when you got it." She said sharply.

"Look, the person who had this book last year must have written all over it. I just want to know who it was!" He said, irked. "They wrote something in it that I want to use in my project, but I want to talk to them about it first."

"Mr. Kitwake, I don't know how far you're prepared to continue in this story, but I should tell you that you owe the department money for that book. It's falling to bits, for Hag's sake!"

"Didn't I just tell you I didn't do it?" He asked. She shook her head and stood up, shooing him to the door. He tried again, turning around in the doorway to face her. He made his voice reasonable: "Look, I don't mind paying for the book, just please tell me who used it last year?"

She glared at him through the doorway. "Those books were all new. When I gave them out they were spotless. No-one used it last year. If you want to get in touch with the person who wrote in it, I suggest you find a psychiatrist."

She slammed the door, glared at him one last time through the glass, and stalked back to her desk.

Daniel scratched his head. Maybe someone in the class had picked up the book and written on it? They could have taken it when it was on the floor. He doubted it, though. It was very odd.

He glanced at the book. It lay in his hand quietly, the pristine cover gleaming in the artificial light. He was holding a spotlessly clean, new book. The only thing that was wrong with it was a torn back cover. Not a trace of the heavy graffiti was left.

He sat down heavily on one of the benches that lined the school corridor, running a finger along the spine.

"What the hell is going on?" He muttered. The book didn't answer. It seemed heavier- the cheap pages were thicker, as if they had changed into rich grained paper. The cover let off the soft, bitter perfume of leather. It was everything an elegant piece of literature wants to be when it grows up. The book almost seemed to emit an air of smugness. It was infuriating.

"Books don't do that." He hissed accusingly. As if in reply, the scrap of paper fell out of the flyleaf, smiling up at in him with its crescent of numbers. Curious despite himself, Daniel picked up the scrap and turned to page twenty. And gasped.

The diagrams had disappeared. In their place was a beautiful gilded painting, the detail so clear it was almost like a photograph.

The picture showed an immense, dark forest, untamed and overgrown. The ground was covered in twisted roots and trailing briars. The trees grew gnarled, twisting their way up towards the light. It was autumn, the trees glowing gold and scarlet in the grey sunlight. Some of the leaves were gilded, heavy and shining. One of them was falling from a tree, coming to rest in a tiny brook that sang through the silent brushstrokes. It was the most beautiful place Daniel had ever seen.

He stared at it. The more he looked, the more sinister the painting appeared. What had appeared to be patches of quiet shadow turned into black pools that could be hiding anything. Sunlight dappled the ground, but it wasn't until he looked closely that he realised that patches of the ground were slightly too dark, slightly too red, as if someone had bled onto them. The trees retained their dignified appearance, but the bark was split in places. Broken arrowheads, almost concealed by the briars, rested in some of these splits.

And there was the girl.

She walked through the shadows of the forest, almost invisible in the shifting light. She was painted lovingly, the artist drawing the smallest detail into her hands, her face, her eyes. She stalked through the forest confidently, ignoring both the beauty and the horrors that surrounded her. Perhaps, though, she was aware of the danger- a longbow was strung across her back with a quiver full of arrows, a dagger hung from her belt.

The weapons didn't make her seem threatening, though. Even though she was the most dangerous figure in the painting, even though she could well have spilt the blood that stained the ground, she didn't look threatening. She looked like she belonged in the forest, knew who she was and what she was capable of, and was determined to do it.

Daniel jumped when he heard the door click. The history teacher scowled at him as she walked past, saving most of her glare for the book. He held his breath, wondering what she would say about the picture.

"If you write an essay on the carbon cycle I will personally make sure you fail every history class you ever enter, ever again." She said poisonously. Before he could answer, she stalked away.

He looked back at the book, and to his dull surprise it was, once again, a rather boring black-and-white diagram. All the colour and beauty had disappeared.

 _Maybe I need to get help._ He thought, _Maybe I'm going mad._

And then he saw the writing. Scrawled in large, round letters across the face of the jewel were two words that had not been there that morning.

**_Help Us!_ **


	5. Chapter 5

_The girl strides through the forest, her face set with grim determination. The strong lines of her jaw usually falsely mark her as stubborn, but today they are positively mulish. She walks quickly and confidently- perhaps too confidently, and perhaps too quickly. Her clenched hands and fiery eyes make her look like a petulant child running away from home._

_But other evidence suggests this is not the case. She walks with direction, as if she knows where she is going and wants to get there quickly. She walks with calculated grace, not the headlong rush of a runaway, and she doesn't look back._

_She is trying to convince herself that she is being rational._

The news had been shocking for everyone, but devastating for Daine. While the other mages in the room had known some of the immortals as comrades or informants, she had known many of them as friends. It was impossible to believe that they were gone, just like that.

Her friends accepted the news easily enough, after their initial shock. Alanna left quickly for her home at Pirate's Swoop, promising to return to the capital as soon as she was sure her family knew of the threat and was 'adequately' defended. From the blazing look in her violet eyes, Daine suspected that the defences might involve a few explosive spells and heavy shields. Any immortal foolish enough to attack the fort would be cooked to a crisp in seconds.

She was glad. She felt sick.

The mages threw themselves into study, raiding the palace clerk's supplies of books and studying the ledgers that had been found about the barrier in Carthak. There were notes documenting each spell cast by the major mages in the university, from lighting candles to summoning immortals. Numair and Lindhall buried themselves in stacks of paper and didn't re-emerge, although often their voices rose in scholarly debate. The only other person who found the papers interesting was Kitten, who watched the debating and translating with fascination.

Daine tried to help, but the scrawling columns of dull notes made her head hurt. She knew that each sign meant a different incantation or spell, and could read most of them... but sometimes she didn't really know how to tell if they were flawed, or in the wrong order. Any one thing could have resulted in a huge, irreparable rent in the barrier; but for all she knew she could be looking at an account of someone making a common charm.

She eventually gave up, nervous of making a mistake, and left the ledgers to Lindhall and Numair to study. Kitten stayed in the room, examining each book with absorption that rivalled the mages'. Daine didn't know if she was reading the signs or not, but figured that it wouldn't hurt her to be quiet for a change.

And so she was left alone with her thoughts. Rather than feeling useless, she spent most of her time in the palace stables, caring for the horses. And, increasingly, she felt her gaze being drawn to the forest.

It seemed so stupid.

The immortals clans in the forest were peaceful, but they weren't incapable of defending themselves. They couldn't simply be wiped out in three weeks. They were clever, they were strategists, and they weren't ashamed to ask for help. They'd been comrades in the war. They wouldn't just disappear.

Although maybe, she thought with guilt, they had tried to ask for help. She hadn't been listening to the forest lately.

And Kitten's been out of sorts recently, too. She thought, feeling cold. I figured she was jealous of all the time I'm spending with Numair, but maybe she knew something was going on.

The more she thought about it, the guiltier she felt.

"There must be someone left alive," she said aloud. The pony she was grooming gave her an odd look, but didn't reply. "They would have hidden their young safely, or found somewhere to hide..."

The pony chewed a mouthful of straw slowly. Who? It asked.

Daine shook her head in answer, cleaning out the brushes hurriedly. It was the work of moments to collect her bow. Before the sun was any further across the sky she'd set off into the forest.

_And, for a glacial moment suspended across the centuries, there is a painting._

_The autumn sun gilds the leaves into the purest living gold. The ground is rich with the blood of absent friends, but the girl doesn't waver in her determination._

_And, for a fraction of thought, the girl realises that she isn't being rational._

_The immortals would have fought to their last breath. They had no real fear of dying, so they wouldn't have hidden their young or protected their old, or anything humans consider important. They would have all died fighting. The only ones left alive- the cowards or the weak- would be too young or infirm to speak._

_The girl realises, deep in her heart, that there is no-one left to talk to._

_But at the very least, she wants to apologise._

 

888

 

"Just give me a straight answer. No jokes or anything, just say what you think."

An irritated sigh drifted along the phone line. "You want me to tell you if books speak?"

Daniel tried not to snap at her. She'd been irritating enough the entire conversation without provoking her further. "Yes!"

"And... not metaphorically, or anything like that? A straight answer?"

"Yes!"

Another sigh. A pause.

"That's an interesting question, Daniel."

Another, longer pause."One requiring much thought."

The longest pause yet, interrupted by the crunching sound of a potato chip. Daniel winced, knowing she was drawing it out on purpose as revenge for his yelling at her earlier. Her voice brightened.

"I know! Yes, books can speak. I read about it a couple of weeks ago!"

Daniel couldn't stop the excitement in his voice. "Really?"

"No, of course not, you dozy dingbat!" She yelled. "What sort of stupid question is that, to phone me with at one in the morning?"

Daniel rolled his eyes, not really surprised at her reaction. "I'm grounded. I had to wait for mom to go to bed before I could use the phone."

"Well, I'm not! And I was having a lovely dream!" She hissed back, "The tall, dark and handsome man was just about to talk to me, and you woke me up!"

"This is more important than that!" He almost yelled, then remembered to lower his voice. She drew in a surprised breath, not used to him being really angry. "Look, you remember the book I got for history class?"

"Sure." She replied, her voice an audible shrug.

"Was it new? Brand new?"

He could almost imagine the odd look she was probably giving her phone. "No, it had stupid graffiti over it. It was either old, or you're the fastest vandal in the west. Why?"

"I took it to Miss Kitwake to ask a question, and she said it was brand new when she gave it to me."

"Is that all?" She heaved another exasperated sigh, "Look, it's probably an old book from last year that got mixed in to the new ones, or something. Or maybe someone mixed them up for a joke. What's the big deal?"

"Could someone have... spelled the book, for a joke?" He said painfully. There was a very long pause, this time with the silence deadly serious.

"Daniel, you know there's no-one with the gift in our school." She said quietly.

"But, maybe, one of the teachers...?"

"No! No-one! No-one has the gift!" She said, "Do you see anyone wearing the mark?"

Daniel shook his head, then remembered he was on a phone. "No."

"Then it couldn't possibly have been spelled. What's gotten into you?"

"It's a long story." He said, suddenly regretting telling her anything at all. It was too dangerous to talk about the gift when his sister was still in the house...

"I'm already awake." She said pointedly.

"No... I can't tell you over the phone. Can you come round tomorrow?"

"I thought you were grounded," She said, the sarcasm creeping back into her tone. Daniel almost slammed the phone down.

"I'll tell my mom we're studying." He said through gritted teeth. "Please? It's important."

"Alright." There was another silence, Daniel was just about to put the phone down when she blurted, "Daniel, is it about the gift?"

"I don't know." He said honestly. She was silent again, then:

"Be careful." There was a click as she put the phone down, followed by the purr of the empty line.

Katy arrived at eight-o-clock the next morning, her face bright and cheerful when Daniel's mom opened the door.

"What do you want?" Jennifer said curtly. Katy smiled at her, wearing her best little-girl charm.

"I told Daniel I'd come and help him with the math paper we've got next week. It's such an interesting project! We're studying patterns of strategy, and comparing real-life results with statistical analysis of numbers, but Daniel couldn't get his head around the Goldenlake Theory." She babbled cheerfully, and then looked up at the expression on Jennifer's face. "Oh no, he didn't forget, did he? I was up late last night getting my notes together!" Her face fell.

"Daniel's grounded." Jennifer said, not opening the door any further.

"Really? Why?" Katy asked slyly. Jennifer shook her head wearily. Katy started her random babble again. "Well, it doesn't make much difference, does it? I mean, we're not going anywhere... and I'd much rather be at home than here... not that there's anything wrong with your house..."

"You're really here to study?" Jennifer asked suspiciously, "You two aren't getting up to anything, are you?"

"Oh no, he's not my type." Katy said quickly. "I prefer attractive guys. Not...you know... nerds. I'm just here to talk him through these." She waved a sheath of papers vaguely. Jennifer took them and looked at them closely. Katy took the opportunity to pull a face at Daniel, who was staring aghast at her from the lounge doorway. He rolled his eyes, mouthed the word "nerds" at her, and then mimed retching.

"Well, I certainly can't make sense of these." Jennifer said, handing the papers back and opening the door. Katy smiled brilliantly at her as she stepped past.

"Oh, it's really quite simple... all about superiority of numbers, and the best situations to find the lowest median defence point. I really don't know why Daniel doesn't get it."

It took five minutes more of questioning before Jennifer left the two teenagers alone to 'work'. As soon as she had disappeared to have a shower, Katy dropped her cheerful facade and dumped the papers on the floor. Daniel waited until he heard the water running before he brought out the book, handing it to her with shaking fingers.

"Why's it wrapped in a cloth?" Katy said levelly, not making an effort to look at it.

"I don't know what it'll look like, and I don't want you to expect it to do anything or look any way... I don't know how it works."

She smiled, showing teeth. "Try that sentence again, in a way that makes sense."

"Open the book to page twenty." He said quietly. She gave him an odd look, but unwrapped the cloth from around the book.

"I thought you said this book was tatty? It looks alright now. Did you clean it?"

Daniel breathed a sigh of relief, but didn't answer. At least the book was cooperating...

She opened the book, flicking quickly through the pages. "This is a much nicer version than I got... don't know what you're complaining about." She found the page and frowned at it. "Apart from page twenty. Page two-oh is blank. Is this the great mystery?" She threw the book back on the table. "This is what you had me worrying all night about?"

Daniel bit his lip and took a scrap of paper out of his pocket. "The next number is four-hundred and ten. Try opening it to page four-hundred and ten."

She opened the book again, scowling. "If it's another blank page, I swear I... oh, sweet goddess."

Daniel didn't look up from the scrap of paper, but he could imagine the beauty of the page from the devotion in her voice. "It's a picture, right?"

"A picture... a...Mithros bless, it's beautiful." She breathed reverently. "It's a huge room, in a castle... you can see the land outside the windows, all forests and lakes, no houses or anything at all. And the walls are covered in tapestries. They look so real."

Daniel leaned over her shoulder to get a good look. The picture was amazing, just like the first. The room was enormous, large stones covered in tapestries and broken by glassless windows. The gothic elegance of the place was disturbed only by the huge stacks of paper and parchment that littered the floor. Katy had reached out to touch the tapestries, so brightly shaded that they seemed to leap from the page, but stopped with her hand shaking.

"Where did you get this book?" She asked sharply.

"It's my history book." He quickly told her what had happened the day before, with the first picture. She watched him sharply as he spoke, although her eyes kept drifting back to the illustration. "I wasn't sure if it was real, or what it was... so I phoned you. I figured if it was a trick you might be able to figure it out. But you didn't believe me."

She shook her head slowly. "It can't possibly be a school book. If they were found to have something magical on site, they'd be closed down."

"Are you sure it's magical?" He asked, not noticing the fear in his voice. She nodded, then looked back at the illustration.

"I wasn't sure, but... I think we're in a lot of trouble."

"Why?"

She bit her lip nervously, then moved her hand. Hidden under her palm were two figures, reading through the papers avidly. A strange lizard was watching them with interest. She pointed to one of the figures- a dark haired man.

"The girl I saw in the last picture isn't there." Daniel said. Katy shook her head. Her hand was shaking as she pointed again at the intent figure.

"I've never seen this man before in my life. I don't know who he is, or what he looks like, or if he's even real." She drew a deep breath. "But I dreamed about him last night."


	6. Chapter 6

Leanne gurgled happily at the mobile hanging above her cot. The plastic cats and mice chased each other, spinning around the multicoloured orbs of light that cast feline shadows on every wall.

There wasn't a trace of guile in her eyes as they drifted occasionally to the door, just simple caution. Her mind couldn't grasp anything as complicated as complicated as danger, although she knew that the lights were something called badJust like it was bad to throw her food across the table, and bad to scream when she wanted something. Her brother had told her the lights were bad, and she believed him. He was the smartest brother in the world!

But then, there were so many things that were bad, and she didn't really know what bad was. Sometimes bad was something that got your mommy to talk to you sharply, sometimes bad was something that made your brother yell at you. When daddy was home, bad was something that could make your skin bruised and painful.

There were so many different bad things. It was confusing.

So Leanne played with the coloured lights as they danced above her podgy hands, and laughed happily. They span and wove their way around the room, making the grey curtains blue and the beige walls green and everything good.

She fell asleep with a smile on her face, simple happiness at making a bad thing good again, and the lights slept with her.

Gentle hands picked her up and held her closely. She mumbled sleepily and relaxed, leaning into mommy's shoulder.

"She has the gift." The voice was soft, the harmonics of it a soothing rumble in the woman's chest. Leanne tried to pull herself out of sleep and couldn't- but she wanted to explain that she didn't... she couldn't possibly have the gift. The gift was a bad thing, and she was a good girl. But the soft curtain of sleep held her tightly, and all she could so was listen and dream.

"It wouldn't work if she didn't." Said a second voice- a deeper voice. The woman sighed.

"I know. But I didn't think they would react like this. She might even be in danger!" Her voice rose. Belatedly, she took a deep breath and quietened down. Leanne felt her muscles relax slightly. "And I don't like what's happening to that boy, either. We have no right to intrude on his life like this."

"We've talked about this." The deeper voice said, intense but gentle. "We're not forcing him to do anything. Anything he does, he'll decide to do for himself."

"But, you've seen the way he lives!" One of the arms holding Leanne disappeared, the other holding her securely as the woman gestured with the free hand. "Books! Legends! He doesn't understand... anything! How can he know what he's doing?"

"He's clever; he'll work it out." The other voice said. The woman didn't answer. "We've been working for this for years, ever since the barrier started weakening. Why are you changing your mind now?"

The woman shifted Leanne to her other arm. "I'm not changing my mind! I'm just... scared."

The man laughed softly. There was a rustle of cloth as he walked up to the woman and took the baby out of her arms. Leanne twitched in her dream, caught between the voices and the coloured lights. "It'll work out alright. It has to." He said. "It's all in the roll of the Hag's dice."

The woman's hand stroked the hair back from Leanne's head. "I suppose she's too young to be trained? It'd be better if she could hide the gift."

"She's three years old! I doubt I could even teach her to chew with her mouth shut." The man replied, laughter in his voice. The woman's voice cheered up in reply.

"I guess you're right. Can you... hide the gift, then?"

"Only temporarily."

There was a glow of light, then the dark felt returned. Slowly, stubbornly, Leanne forced her way through the sleep. She wanted to tell them that she was a big girl, and she'd learned lots! She wanted to tell them their voices had changed- that mommy's voice was too light, and daddy's voice too nice. She wanted to tell them that she was a good girl. She wanted to tell them that she knew the gift was bad. She wanted to understand what bad was.

But when the curtains of sleep withdrew, the room was empty. The only thing left was the lingering scent of mommy, a perfume of trees and grass and flowers.

And the coloured lights had gone. Leanne strained until her face blotched purple, but the friendly orbs didn't come back. Her hands waved futilely in the air for a moment, then clenched into fists as she screwed up her eyes and wailed.

The door flew open, and the chubby girl ran in- the one who'd been talking to her brother all day. The beam of sharp light cut across the room, hurting the baby's eyes and making her cry all the more.

"Daniel!" The girl shouted, her voice too loud, "Your sister's crying!"

"Pick her up, then!" Daniel shouted back, his voice echoing along the corridor. The girl winced and grabbed Leanne around the middle, holding her clumsily and avoiding the Nappy Area at all costs. There was a blur of uneasy movement, and they were in Daniel's room. Leanne looked at her brother's angry expression through a veil of tears, and hiccoughed another sob.

"Take her!" Katy said. Daniel put down his pen on an over-full notepad and took his sister, holding her none too gently.

"You haven't wet the bed, have you Lee?" He asked sharply, "I'm busy. I can't change it for you yet. And you should have used the potty before you went to bed!"

Leanne shook her head clumsily, dripping tears. Daniel sighed and stood up, picking his way through the clutter of books on the floor.

"I'll put her back to bed. She probably had a nightmare or something." He said to Katy. "She doesn't normally do this. Oh- read that chapter on psychic progression." He nodded towards the book he'd been making notes in. "It doesn't sound at all likely, but it's a lot closer than just assuming it's the gift."

Katy nodded. Leanne sniffled and looked up at her brother. "Gift. Bad." She said decisively. Daniel rolled his eyes and walked back to her room.

"What is it, Lee?" He asked more gently when they were back in her room. With the light on, the walls were a dull beige and the curtains grey, and even the brightness of her bedcovers didn't make it a nice place. She gulped back another sob as Daniel checked the mattress for damp, and then tucked her in.

"Gift. Bad!" She said. Daniel sat down next to the cot and picked up a fluffy toy badger from the floor.

"You had a dream about the gift?" He asked, absently pulling loose strands of thread from the toy's fur.

"Yes." She whispered. "An' it being bad."

Daniel paused for a moment. "I don't know how to explain this to you, Leanne, but... having the gift doesn't make you a bad person. You frightened mom and me because...well... other people don't see it that way. But we don't think you're bad just because you have the gift."

Leanne smiled and snuggled herself in further, reaching for the badger. Daniel handed it to her and turned on the nightlight next to the cot, bathing the room in a soft yellow light.

"But other people might think the gift is a bad thing, and they might really want to tell you off if you ever use it. They might even be so mad, they'll take you away from mom and me. And we don't want that to happen, do we? Which is why you don't use the gift, ever."

"Ok." Leanne nodded and hugged the toy.

"You feeling better now?" Daniel asked, glancing towards the door. Leanne looked at the soft yellow light and nodded, her eyes already sliding shut.

Daniel crept out of the room. As he was shutting the door, he imagined he could hear someone singing.


	7. Chapter 7

The forest was deeply, darkly quiet. The silver bird-song and shimmering rustles of leaves echoed strangely in the depths of the trees, filling a silence that no-one but her could hear. Normally, the chatter of the People and the Immortals was almost unbearably loud in this part of the woods, but today they were so quiet the absence made her head hurt. She reached out with her gift, straining to hear anything, anyone, but there was only silence.

Every so often she called out to the People, but they didn't answer. Sometimes something scared them into silence, but she'd never known it to be this complete. She didn't call out too often, afraid that one of the hostile immortals might hear her.

She walked on until she was almost lost. The sky fell to an amber glow over the treetops, dying the trees russet and red. It sparkled dully through the water of a stream, creating rust-coloured flecks of light. Daine sighed and stopped by the stream, sitting on one of the flat stones that bordered it and scooping water from it to drink.

She splashed some water on her face and grimaced at its iciness. She felt like a fool. Jonathan had been right- there was no-one left. The woods were silent, the People afraid to talk. But, more than feeling stupid, she was deeply confused.

She had visited every nest she knew of, and they were all empty. All the immortals were gone, which she had been expecting- but so had their weapons and their supplies. There wasn't a trace of a single immortal ever having been there. Even stranger, there were no footprints, and not even any signs of a fight. After the first battleground, where the clerk had got his information from, there was nothing. And there were no bodies. She could only reason that the Immortals hadn't been killed, they'd... disappeared.

How strange.

She glanced across the stream. This was as far as she'd ever been in the forest. Past the stream, she would be lost. This wasn't really a problem- she could track her footprints back- but there was no reason to think there would be anything new in that section of forest.

She was musing on this when a muted slithering sound made her jump. Without looking in the direction of the sound, she slowly reached for her bow. Whatever was trying to sneak up on her wasn't very good, but as far as she could tell there was only one of it.

There was a dull thud as eight legs hit the ground and a hissing noise as she drew an arrow and aimed it at the Spidren's head.

The creature blinked, surprised, and then raised two hands in a gesture of peace. It smiled slimily, its expression almost cross-eyed as it looked at the arrow being pointed at its forehead, and spoke.

"Hello there, little girl."

"Not so little, nor so friendly." Daine retorted, not lowering the bow. "Drop the weapons."

The Spidren tried the smile again, its face slowly freezing as it dropped axes from its second pair of hands. Daine didn't move. Scowling, the Spidren reared on its hind legs and dropped a broadsword from a third hand.

"Happy now, little girl?" It snarled. Daine smiled coldly.

"Looking for a snack, were you?" She said. The Spidren ignored the question.

"I know who you are, little girl. You're the Wild Mage."

"Well done." Daine was getting tired of this banter- her arms were trembling already from holding the bow so still. She guessed the Spidren probably knew that, and decided to hurry the conversation along. "Were you trying to find me?"

"I found you hours ago. I was trying to kill you." The Spidren declared with moronic bravado. Daine raised an eyebrow.

"Any particular reason why?"

The Spidren drew a breath as if to speak, then darted towards her, scooping up the sword from the ground. It ran with a strange gait, kicking up dirt from the ground to obscure her sight. Grit and soil flew through the air as Daine released the arrow, then drew and fired another in rapid succession. The Spidren screamed, and then there was sudden silence.

Daine drew another arrow out of the quiver and stood up, walking over to the body. She nearly gagged at the smell rising from the thing- from the streaks in its fur she guessed it had been part of the battle, and Immortal blood sours rapidly. She kicked the remaining weapons away from it, and notched the arrow again. She nonchalantly aimed it at the thing's head and coughed politely.

"You're not fooling me, you know. You can't die from being shot through the shoulders. You just can't attack people who want to have a nice, friendly chat with you."

The Spidren opened one eye. "Bitch." It spat, and then closed the eye again. Daine sighed.

"There are more painful places, believe me. I'm not a torture-type person, but I really, really want to know what happened to the other immortals."

"Oh, them? They're gone!" The Spidren said triumphantly. "All gone! The forest is ours!"

"Perhaps not." Daine replied, taking more careful aim. The Spidren's eyes widened.

"Look, little girl, what do you want to know?" It whined, shifting in the dark pool that flowed from just below its neck.

"Why did you want to kill me?"

"Who wouldn't?" The Spidren muttered in a last streak of rebellion. Its expression faded as she scowled at it. "The barrier. If you die then the barrier will fall. Then we can all come back!"

Daine narrowed her eyes. "You're all the banished Immortals?" She ignored the first part of the answer as ridiculous. Even Immortals have their superstitions. The Spidren laughed drily, showing pointed teeth.

"Not just from your petty war, little girl! The gods have been banishing us since the beginning of time. It's their way of dealing with problems. They have to protect their precious humans, after all." It spat on the ground. "And now the barrier is falling, and we can all come back, and you will pay." It said the last three words with menacing slowness, as if foretelling some inescapable future. Its red-rimmed eyes glared into her stunned expression with dark glee. "You, and your little friends, and your family, and your bastard lover, will suffer until the end of time. I guarantee it."

Without thinking, Daine shot it. At the last moment she realised what she was doing and jarred her aim, hitting it with a heavy graze across the neck. It laughed as more blood pooled on the ground. Daine blinked and lowered the bow, figuring the damn thing couldn't move now anyway- with the amount of blood it was losing, it'd be dead before long. She willed herself not to let her voice shake with anger- the thing was trying to goad her into killing it, and she'd let it. She cursed inwardly and made her voice level.

"Why didn't you come back last time, when the barrier fell?"

"There's more than one barrier, little idiot. You think the gods would leave the barriers to human control? What sort of arrogant lunacy is that? But the small barrier fell last year. And then the war with Chaos weakened the central barrier. Behind it..." The Spidren made an effort to point at itself with a rear leg. "Us. The Immortals the gods couldn't even put up with in their realm. Us. And you will die."

"But you said if I live, the barrier won't fall." Daine whispered. The Spidren hissed a snigger. Now the sun had almost set, and the creature's fur blended in to the bloody ground so as to make it nearly invisible. She had to strain her eyes to be able to see it at all.

"No, I said if you die, the barrier will fall. But if you live, the barrier will still fall."

"Then why try to kill me?"

"We are... impatient." The Spidren licked its lips nervously, smiling at the taste of blood. "The Immortals are holding the barrier together, but we fight against them. We will overcome. But... you could create an annoyance. You could complicate things."

"How? Why?" Daine asked automatically. The creature licked its lips again slowly, and smiled at the ground.

"Blood." It said, and died.


	8. Chapter 8

Katy bit her lip to keep from screaming and sat bolt upright. Her bed was soaked in sweat, the sheets tangled ropes from where she'd been writhing in her sleep. She forced her eyes wide open, scared that they would slide her back deep down into that nightmare.

Usually when she dreamed she forgot quickly, but tonight her mind dripped with visions of the blood that had flooded her imagination. She blinked and sobbed, pushing nausea away from her.

The blood... good gods, the blood...

The blood was everywhere. It pooled on the ground and dripped from the trees, dark and viscous. It was a dream, there were no smells... and yet her mind conjured up the bitter, metallic scent until she could breathe nothing but death. And even now she was awake, she could still smell it.

That wasn't the real reason she felt sick, though, and she knew it. She knew that deep down she could deal with it. The bile rising in her throat was really disgust at herself.

She had imagined the glories of history, the fantastic terror of battle and the dark power of the Gift. She had fantasised over each history book, imagining the heroes that had lived before her. Each ruined castle she visited, each ancient tapestry, was a mirror into another world.

She had devoured legends and history in huge, insatiable bites, longing to make her imaginary fortress clearer. Her parents took her passion for escape as an affinity with history, and put her in history class. Her teachers were bemused as she wrote brilliant papers on medieval society, and then flunked the simplest modern history tests.

Katy didn't notice. She reigned happily from the fortress, and pitied those who couldn't see it.

And her imagination shone, and her mind was filled with glory.

A world of princesses and heroes.

A world of freedom and passion.

A world where magic was not feared- where the mages walked the streets with the ungifted.

Her mind gave it shape.

She danced with the Giantkiller, and flirted with the Black Mage. Her best friends were queens and princesses. The Ivory Queen smiled graciously upon her. She discussed affairs of state with knights and nobles, and explored the wilderness of Tortall.

She told herself stories, and wrote some down, and wished people could understand how very real the fortress was. She told them so, and they teased her shamelessly. Over time, she learned to hide her mind from people, masking her words with sarcasm until it became a habit.

She had been delighted with the new assignment. She knew she would hardly have to study for it- she knew each legend, and held the stories close to her heart. She had pondered the problem for years- of course she knew the difference between legends and what her parents dubbed "real life"- of course she wasn't trapped in fairy tales- and the assignment would be easy.

But...

Daniel's cynicism had always amused her. It wasn't like the boy had no imagination- they'd gone to the same school since they were little, and their minds had grown in each other's company. For every story she had, he had an equally gripping tale- but his fortress was built in the "real world". He was fascinated with real people, the way the world had patterns and logic now that the wild factors were removed. While her fortress was filled with the people of legend, his was full of scientists and mathematicians.

And for a while their friendship wavered, but in the end they couldn't imagine not having the other half of their imagination. Daniel kept her feet on the ground, snapped her out of daydreams and laughed over her adventures, while she pointed out the beauty of the past to him. As they grew older they drifted apart, dating other people and finding other friends- but they always knew the other person would always supply a friendly ear.

Which is why he'd told her about the book.

And suddenly her fortress was crumbling.

The first dream- the dark haired man from the picture- had been almost boring. He hadn't seen her, and she had been mute. She watched him study for what seemed like hours, always the same book. The book was written in a strange language, so she couldn't understand it. He read for hours, and then closed the book with a sigh. He glanced towards the door with an almost worried expression, and looked up.

His gaze caught Katy's, and she was frozen. She wished she could speak, but she was still mute.

The man didn't say anything, just looked straight at her.

And then the phone rang.

And then, tonight, the dream had been the same. She had started in the room with the man in it, but this time she could move. This time, when he looked up, she realised that he wasn't really looking at her- he couldn't possibly; she was invisible. She looked around, and saw the window. Against her will, her body moved and suddenly she was flying, faster than any aeroplane, faster than sound, as the sun set in the sky.

And then, in the dusk, in the dark of the woods, she saw the girl. And she knew it must be the girl Daniel was talking about. He'd described her in almost loving detail. Katy privately thought she looked too thin.

Which is when the dream went wrong.

The girl was hardly any older than Katy, but she shot the creature with almost careless calm. The creature's insults, and physical repulsiveness, didn't seem to worry her. Her voice was friendly enough, as the creature bled to death.

And the blood...

It pooled around her boots as she walked closer to the creature, but she didn't seem to notice. The third time she shot it, blood sprayed around with the clearing with each beat of the creature's heart.

Katy had never imagined there would be that much blood.

And yet the girl was perfectly calm. She watched the creature die impassively, asking it questions as its life flowed into the ground. She treated it like it was terrible for wanting to kill her, even as she killed it. She threatened to torture it if it wouldn't speak. She didn't blink as it died, simply walking away and leaving it to rot. And the blood dried unnoticed on her clothes and hands.

Katy hated her.

The girl was everything she had ever fantasized of being. She was strong, independant, and perfectly suited to her world. She lived in a castle and walked among the immortals. And yet, she betrayed everything Katy had ever imagined her world to be. The glory of heroes fell to this...

She was young, and beautiful, and a cold-blooded murderess.

And Katy hated her.

888

Daniel, on the other hand, was feeling rather optimistic. After the first time, his sister hadn't shown any signs of the gift. His mother had calmed down after he'd spent the whole day "studying" with his friend, and had apologised for grounding him. She had, in fact, been rather embarrassed.

"I'd had rather a long day at work." She'd explained, not looking him in the face, "Your father called, and... well, it's no excuse, I know. It's not your fault. And I don't want you angry at me, because we can't hide Leanne if we're angry with each other. But don't you worry about that- here, have some money, and go down town. Buy a new video game or something. You're not grounded anymore."

Daniel had taken the money, and gone straight to the Bookshop with it. He hadn't even thanked his mom- something he felt keenly almost as soon as he left the house. She had admitted she was wrong, and he hadn't even thanked her. And she must have been feeling very guilty, because she'd given him a lot of money.

The Bookshop was one of the most wonderful places in Thayton. The large town had a small cinema, an even smaller bowling alley, and a tiny theatre. This meant that anyone who wasn't interested in going to the clubs in the city either got bored, or learned to read very quickly. The Bookshop catered to the intellectual cravings of the townspeople, not least because you had to spend hours searching before you found what you were looking for. There was a newer shop in the town that dealt in bestsellers and popular fiction, but the Bookshop dealt in books.

Daniel often spent his Saturday mornings curled up in one of the narrow paths between bookcases, pouring through a novel. He was always finding strange and rare books on the dusty shelves- sometimes even books that the owner of the shop had to look at twice before they could remember what the cover was supposed to be.

The best thing about the Bookshop was that it hadn't been affected by the Gift-Scourge. The shop had been open for hundreds of years, and no-one, not even the most dogmatic policeman, was prepared to hunt through every shelf for books on the Gift. So now, when even the word "Gift" was sometimes censored on TV (and always, always avoided at school), you could still find old magic books hidden in dusty corners.

Daniel had always considered it like a treasure hunt when he was young, searching every corner until he found the dusty tomes, often covered with strange symbols that were prettier than any picture. The man who ran the Bookshop saw what he was doing and made him an offer- a small allowance a week, if he would find all the magic books and store them in the shop's cellar. That way, he said, Little Danny would get some pocket money, and he wouldn't get "in trouble" with anyone.

"Little Danny" didn't understand, but two coppers a week was nothing to be sneezed at.

When he was older, the man had offered him a permanent part-time job, sorting the older books. Daniel (as he was by then) had gladly accepted. By the time he was fourteen, all of the forbidden books were gone from the shelves, and he was old enough to understand how much danger the man had put him in. To even be associated with someone who had something magical could bring your whole family under arrest. The association had made him even more paranoid than his mother was about Leanne.

When he was fifteen, the man had died. His nephew, Peter, had travelled down from Olau to keep the shop- a skinny, lazy man, who set up a small television in the counter and hardly ever looked up from it. Daniel doubted he had ever even looked at the inventory. Without saying anything to the new owner, he had abandoned his job and left the Bookshop to decay.

Peter hardly glanced up as Daniel walked through the door. The bell above the door clanked dully, fighting against rust. The old owner had always kept it brightly polished, as it had been for centuries before. Everything in the Bookshop was precious- and Peter didn't seem to understand this.

"Excuse me," Daniel said, walking up to the counter. The man jumped and glared at him, his eyes flickering back from time to time to the TV screen.

"Yeah, kid?" He demanded. "What do ya want?"

"I used to work here." Daniel started. The man yawned deliberately and reached for a packet of potato chips.

"Yeah? So did half of Thayton. I s'pose you want some back pay, or something." He yawned again. "Which, of course, you're not getting. Bye Bye!" He waved sarcastically towards the door and looked back at his television. Daniel scowled and turned off the screen.

"Look, I used to sort out books for old Mr. Dyll. I sorted out a load of old books that he said he didn't want- they're in a box in the cellar. He died before I could get them home, and it seemed disrespectful to run off with books when they weren't his to give away. So I'm asking if I can have the books, please."

Peter's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure he didn't just want to give them to you."

Daniel smiled and waved the small wad of money his mom had given him. "All this money could be yours!" he said sarcastically.

Peter's expression was suddenly very friendly. "Do you know where the books are? Do you need a hand getting them up from the cellar?"

Daniel shook his head. "It's quite a small box- I'm sure I can manage." He darted around the counter and down the stairs before the man had any more helpful urges. The box was bulky, and one corner was soggy from damp, but it was still sealed as it had been years ago. Nothing set it apart from the other boxes of books. He hefted it in both arms and sidled back up the cellar steps.

When he got to the top, he set the box on the floor by his feet and took out the money, handing it to Peter. The man took it, then scowled at the box.

"I'd better look through that before you go." He said. Daniel blinked, feeling his heart rushing suddenly.

"Why?"

"There's expensive stuff in the cellar. You might have snuck some in your box."

Daniel shook his head and kicked the box gently. It fell onto its side. "Nuh-uh. It's sealed, see? Look, the tape's all yellow and everything."

Peter looked for a moment like he was still desperately curious to see these old books, then his normal insouciance took over. "Fine, kid, whatever rocks your boat."

Daniel tried not to heave a sigh of relief. It wasn't until he got out into the street that he realised the soggy corner of the box had broken off entirely, revealing the books slightly.

The box was heavy, but he ran all the way home.


	9. Chapter 9

He was disturbed by the screams.

Not disturbed as in worried. No. Screaming was common enough. But he was in the middle of hiding the books under the bed, and the screams were terribly close. He covered the box with a blanket- a lousy hiding place at best- and ran to the window. It sounded like someone was getting dragged away from their home again. The police had been very vigilant when it came to arresting the vagrant mages this year.

But no... this screaming was different. It almost sounded... happy. The delighted harmonics of laughter mixed in to screams of fear and fury, birdlike in their shrill, piercing quality. It sounded very close.

Daniel peered over the windowsill. There was no-one in sight. Only the screaming.

 _How strange._ He thought.

He shouldn't have taken so long to hide the books, really. But he'd started reading one, and become engrossed. The thrill of new knowledge was unequalled to the thrill of forbidden knowledge. The very real danger had made every fact more fascinating, every page of information more tangible, until he could hardly bear to keep the books hidden at all.

And so when the door clicked, and his mom called out her weary greeting, he was suddenly incredibly nervous. He hid the books as quickly as he could, but the screaming distracted him even from that. He picked up the history book, and thought about hiding that too.

He listened, and became dimly aware of another voice screaming under the laughter.

_Danny! Daniel, get your sister and get downstairs! Now!_

Fear.

Pure, deep fear.

In his mother's voice?

Daniel forgot about the books and ran downstairs, snatching up his sister from her playing as quickly as he could. He skidded to a halt at the bottom of the stairs, unable to believe his eyes.

The whole lounge had been turned upside down. The sofas were both leaning against one wall, like a sort of weak bomb shelter. Bookcases and cupboards were leaning against the windows. As soon as he had carried Leanne into the room, his mother slammed the door behind him.

"What's wrong, mom?" He asked, bemused. She barely glanced at him, busy pushing a cabinet against the door.

"There's something on the roof. Something dangerous. They're sending the Sorrocks to kill it." She said shortly. "It's killed people."

Leanne screwed up her face and started crying as the screaming outside began again. Jennifer gestured for them to get behind the sofas. As soon as they were huddled in the cramped space, she took the baby from her son. Leanne gradually stopped crying, seeming to feel the need for quiet. Holding their breath, they listened to the sound from the roof.

The thing on the roof didn't seem too bothered about moving, screaming and laughing alternately. There were strange scratching noises as it paced along the tiles.

"What is it?" Daniel whispered. Jennifer shrugged, not taking her eyes from the ceiling.

"I don't know, sweetie. It just appeared. It flew down the street, slashed a lot of people to pieces, and came onto the roof. A policeman called the Sorrocks, and was telling us... shouting at us... to board up our houses, when it swooped down and killed him." She shivered, her eyes dead. "I saw it happen."

Daniel put his arm over her shoulders, feeling how cold and terrified she was. "I'm sorry, mom."

She sniffed, and then screamed instinctively at the sudden loud crashing sound. The front window exploded inwards, glass flying from around the cabinet. The furniture shook for a moment, horrible scratching noises on the other side. There was a queer snuffling sound, and grating laughter. Pieces of the cabinet began to crunch against the ground.

Daniel bit his lip, wondering why he wasn't scared. He'd been so worked up over the books that he'd been expecting something terrible to happen, and now it was. He felt oddly distant from it. The creature laughed again as more glass tinkled to the ground. There was another sound, almost too soft to hear.

And suddenly there was movement. The sound of heavy lorries pulling up outside the house. The sound of a hundred men loading weapons and giving orders.

The creature screamed, and the scratching noises stopped abruptly. There was a brief command, and the sound of a hundred guns firing simultaneously. A few stray bullets whistled into the ceiling.

"It must be trying to fly away," Daniel whispered, awe in his voice. Jennifer didn't answer, her head buried in her free hand while she hugged Leanne with the other. There was a rattling crash outside as the creature fell, then silence. There weren't even any cheers, just a stunned acceptance.

Without asking for permission, Daniel ducked out from behind the sofa and ran to the front door, yanking the cabinets out of the way impatiently. By the time he got out, the men had already started loading the creature away. It looked vaguely human. Was it just a madman dressed up in a stupid costume? It had happened before. Some people snapped.

Daniel remembered the noise and shuddered. No human could make a sound like that. He strained to see the creature, but there was a solid looking ring of guards around the truck.

You have nothing to fear from the Sorrocks. Daniel remembered, and scoffed inwardly at the thought. The soldiers gave him an odd look as he stared at the creature.

"Are you all alright in there, son?" One of them said, his voice cold and unlike the concern he tried to express. Daniel broke his gaze away from the truck- was that a flash of silver as it drove away?- and looked at the man.

"Yeah, I think so. My mom's a little shocked." He said. The man raised an eyebrow.

"You seem strangely calm."

"I'm a professional thrill seeker. I write reviews. So stuff doesn't scare me for long." Daniel lied quickly, then wondered why. His mom had always taught him to lie to the Sorrocks.

The man shared a half-smile with one of his fellow officers. Daniel rapidly wondered if the stories were true- that the Sorrocks could look into your mind. Certainly this man, with his odd yellow eyes, looked like he might be able to.

"You look like a nerd to me."

"Okay, I just didn't get scared." He admitted. "It seemed too much like a movie."

"Hm." The man grunted. He gestured at Daniel's hands. "What's that?"

Daniel glanced down. To his horror, he could see the history book in his hands. He had completely forgotten he was holding it. He forced himself not to go pale, not to let this man see how terrified he suddenly was as the horror of the last ten minutes hit him. He was suddenly all too aware that there were dead bodies in the street, the bloodstains remaining after the soldiers had taken the corpses away. He suddenly felt like he was going to throw up. He had been curious to see the creature, enjoying the thrill of new knowledge, when people had died.

"It's... it's a history book. I was studying for school." He stammered. The Sorrock took the book casually from his lifeless fingers and flicked through it. He paused, raising an eyebrow, and passed the book to his friend.

This is it. Daniel thought, This is the end. They'll take me away, and I'll never see my mom again. I'm dead. I'm stupid.

"Solid evidence." The second officer said drily. The first officer grinned triumphantly, his yellow eyes fixed on Daniel.

"I told you he was a nerd!" He declared, dropping the book back into the boy's hands. It was open on the drawing of the carbon cycle. This time, the graffiti was gone, and the page was covered in notes and cross-references in the same scrawling handwriting. Daniel gaped at it. The first officer laughed shortly and ruffled his hair.

"You look like a smart kid. Smart kids don't lie to us. Remember that."

Daniel gulped back bile. "I will, sir."

"Heh, you're pretty brave. Beef up those muscles a bit, and you could join the Sorrocks when you're older!" He grinned in a totally humourless way, and turned away.

Within a few minutes the entire team had gone, leaving only bloodstains and a frozen teenager standing in the middle of the deserted street, clutching a book to his chest.

Daniel had to force himself to breathe again. The book seemed to get too warm to hold on to, and he pulled it away from his body. The pages spun in his hands as if they were being blown by a wind- except there wasn't even a breeze. He watched dumbly as it opened itself to the notes section. As he watched, the scrawled writing appeared at the top of the first blank page.

_Be more careful next time, idiot!_

He slammed the book shut, holding it closed tightly.

"Thank you," He whispered, hoping anyone staring out of their windows would think he was praying.

He trudged back to the house, glass crunching under his shoes. The window looked terrible from this side, the wooden frame ripped away from the brick wall and covered with cuts. Daniel ran his hand over one of the cuts in wonder. It had to be two inches deep. Then he remembered the sight of the dead people, cut by the same blade, and yanked his hand away.

His numb mind ran over the last few minutes desperately. Something was missing. Something was wrong.

Something the creature had said.

A hissing noise, almost too soft to hear, lost in the sobs of his family.

_...I've found you now..._

888

Katy arrived at the house as they were cleaning up, her eyes wide and worried. The council had sent street cleaners to scrub the streets, getting rid of the bloodstains, but nothing could

be done about the damage to the houses. Jennifer's house was the worst, but other houses had lost windows, and almost all the TV satellites had been thrown down from the roof.

Daniel tried to smile at her when she leaned on the front gate, but couldn't quite manage it. He set his mind to sweeping up every shard of glass. At least he could keep his sister safe that way.

"I saw it on the news." Katy said in a hushed voice. "They said it was a gang of revolutionaries. Are you alright?"

"It wasn't revolutionaries. It was a monster." Daniel said shortly. "They took it away before they even checked the people who were hurt."

She covered her face with her hands. "It couldn't possibly be."

Daniel leaned down and picked something up, putting it in his pocket. "It was. I saw it. Part of it. And I heard it." He glanced up at the bedroom windows. "It was after Leanne."

"Daniel..." She put a hand on his shoulder, which he shook off slightly later than he usually would.

"And the book knew. It knew!" Daniel swept the glass into a cardboard box and sealed it.

"It's a book. How can it know anything?" Katy protested. Daniel slammed the box into the bin and glared at her.

"Since when did you become so practical? Since when?! It was always you, coming up with stories and ideas, just waiting to get yourself arrested, and now all of a sudden you don't want to believe me?" He pulled the thing he'd picked up out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Here! Have a revolutionary's silver feather!"

She turned it over in her hands, her eyes round. "Dear Mithros, do you know what this is?" She breathed. Some light came back into her eyes. "It's a St..."

"I know what it is." Daniel said shortly.

"I've seen them in museums. They're worth thousands..."

"I know. It killed five people this afternoon." The flatness in his voice cut her enthusiasm short. She looked up.

Daniel continued, not looking up from the broom. "There's an inspection tomorrow. They think something called it. They're going to find Leanne. There's nothing we can do to stop that. Mom's taken her to grandma's, to... to say goodbye." He wiped his eyes furtively. "I'm going to lose my sister. I'd almost rather she'd died."

Katy's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Daniel..."

"And I've got a box full of forbidden books in my room, and they'll find those, and I'll be blacklisted. They almost found out about the history book, but it changed again. It looked innocent. And then the bloody thing told me off!"

"Hide them at my house." Katy said quietly. "They won't check there. If anyone asks we can say that... that you're studying at my place until your house is fixed up."

He looked up, his eyes slightly too red. "Don't be stupid. Then you'll be in trouble, too."

"It's not about that anymore!" She hissed. "Don't you see? The book... the book started all this, and I bet if we find out what it means it'll finish it. It's not about us and our petty lives, it's about the realms and the immortals and the people we can never be!"

"What do you mean?" He asked slowly, used to her over-romanticised outbursts. She told him about the dream, trying to remember every insignificant detail. Daniel listened intently, making her repeat sections that she'd skipped over and asking questions about other things. Katy finished the story after a few minutes, her mind still asleep. She was amazed how vividly she could remember every detail.

"At the end of it, I hated her." She admitted, "But now... I understand some of what she was doing. Her world was full of creatures like this, and she had to survive. She couldn't

just wait for the army to show up whenever she was in trouble: she had to learn how to kill. She just... got very good at it. That's all."

Daniel didn't look like he was listening. He leant on the broom, looking lost in thought. "You said... as long as she was alive, the barrier would be safe?"

"No really, but..."

"The barrier is still standing. Is weakening, but it's still there. There was never a surge of... of super-immortals after the war, so it must have never fallen."

"Look, Daniel, I know what you're thinking... and it's completely impossible. It was hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Things like that just don't happen."

"She's still alive." He finished, not listening.

"Listen to yourself!" She snatched the broom out of his hands furiously. "Veralidaine Salmalin died hundreds of years ago. There are stories about her, legends about her, but she isn't around to tell us if they're true or not! At best she was one of the great mages of the Golden Age. At worst, she's a figment of some old lady's imagination! She is not alive!"

Daniel look at her, blinking as if he could suddenly see again. "No... you're right. She can't be alive. That's stupid. It's simpler than that."

"What is?" She asked stupidly. Sometimes it was difficult to follow where Daniel's mind was taking him.

"Blood." He replied.


	10. Chapter 10

"Sweet Mithros, Daine, what have you been doing?"

The voice startled her out of her thoughts. She looked at her hands absently, wondering what had given her away. Russet stains covered her from head to toe. That was probably what it was, she thought wearily.

"Blood." She said dully. She could nearly hear Numair rolling his eyes, even though the brightness of the mage light blinded her after the darkness outside.

"Really? I didn't notice. It's not like you're covered in it from head to foot." He said sharply.

"It's not mine," She offered helpfully.

"Obviously, or you wouldn't be able to walk home." He said, and then sighed. "I'm sorry, I've been worried."

She blinked a few times, stripping off her archery gloves as her eyes adjusted. She'd expected more of a telling-off than this. The last time she'd gone alone into the forest he'd been furious. And that was before the friendly immortals disappeared. "You're not angry with me?"

"No. I knew you'd go into the forest eventually. It'd take more than Jon's word to make you believe it." Now her sight had cleared she could see the room properly. It had been transformed into an extension of the library; books and papers littered the floor and every available surface. Kitten raised her head sleepily from her napping spot in the corner of one room and chirped, then fell back asleep. Numair was sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by ink and paper and books. His eyes were shining with the zealous zeal of a true bookworm, and with open relief. Daine found herself smiling in spite of herself. Everything seemed so much less terrible now. She moved a pile of papers from a table onto the floor, hating herself for leaving marks on the white sheets. She put down the gloves and took of her over-tunic, glad to see she hadn't got blood on her shirt.

"Having fun?" She asked. He pulled a face for her benefit, and gestured to the stained bow she'd left by the door.

"We are going to talk about what you've been doing. You won't distract me so easily!" He said. "These are mostly dry old papers from Ozorne's over-eager mage slaves. They're full of long winded, boring explanations of how to create mage fire. Where one word would do, they use fifty."

"You must be having the time of your life!" She rejoined. He smiled and stacked two piles of papers together.

"It is rather fun, yes." He said.

"Well, carry on." She gestured outside of the room. "I'm going to the pump to wash off this stupid Spidren blood."

An eyebrow was raised dramatically. "Spidren?"

"There was only one. I'll tell you when I get back." She said. He was already reading over the papers again by the time she shut the door.

There were proper, heated wash rooms at the palace, but the thought of getting blood on their ornate tiles made Daine feel ill. She hadn't realised how completely covered in it she was. She guessed the Spidren was trying to prove a point, or something.

 _Don't be silly._ She thought, _You've got blood all over yourself because you didn't shoot an eight-foot monster in the head, like you're supposed to._

The pump was near the armoury, specially designed for soldiers to use if they were covered in mud. The massive pipe was suspended over a large trough, from which horses were expressedly forbidden to drink. The cold water cleared her mind and took away some of the weariness. She rinsed her hair until it ran clear, and scrubbed at the stains on her hands until her skin was red. Every drop of blood reminded her of what the immortal had told her. She wished suddenly, passionately, that for once she could just be left alone. She hated worrying about some power-crazed immortal's plan! And yet here she was again, fretting over one...stupid...word.

Numair had cleared away most of the papers into neat, if precarious, stacks by the time she got back. He had also managed to find a couple of apples from somewhere, and gave her one when she came in. She smiled her thanks, suddenly ravenous.

"I figured you must be hungry." He said.

Daine described what had happened in the forest between bites, including every trivial thing she could remember the Spidren saying. She finished with, "So, what do you think?"

"Well..." Numair tugged his nose as he thought, "I'd say... we can either assume that he was telling the truth, or that he was lying."

"I think he was telling the truth." Daine admitted, "It didn't seem like there was any point in him lying. He was dying anyway. And it would explain a lot of things."

"It raises more questions than it answers," Numair sighed. "For example, if this central barrier cannot be influenced by humans, then how can you possibly have an effect on it? This Spidren seemed very eager for you to die- perhaps he's calling your bluff? Lots of the banished immortals have a grudge against you- against both of us.

If you think you have to fight for the allied immortals, then you will. And then they'll have every opportunity they want to kill you. But if you don't fight then you're more likely to stay alive. He might have just been trying to goad you into fighting again."

"I don't know." She said dubiously, "If he'd have said that the central barrier was a matter of life and death, then I would believe that. But the way he was talking, it was only a matter of time whatever I chose to do."

"Then choose not to fight." He said quietly. Daine glanced at him, moving closer until she could wrap her arms around him.

"It's fair wondrous how protective you are of me," She said, kissing his cheek, "But you know that if my friends need help then I am going to help them."

"I know." He replied, drawing her into his lap. "But it's always worth a try."

"One day I'll agree with you, and you'll probably faint from the shock." She said absently. He laughed and kissed the top of her head.

"And then there's this other comment. The one about blood. How can blood possibly stop the barrier falling?"

"A spell?" She suggested. He shook his head impatiently.

"No, all the spells that require a particular person's blood are very dark, very dangerous magic. Summoning spells, controlling spells, that sort of thing." His eyes narrowed, "Even if I knew how to cast them, I would never use that sort of spell. If that's what the Spidren meant then he must be deliberately baiting you. Every kind of spell that needs your blood will hurt you in some way."

They were silent for a moment. Numair absentmindedly started winding a strand of her damp hair around his fingers. "Perhaps it's a metaphorical allusion."

Daine blinked up at him. "In Common, please?"

"Maybe it's an idea, like..." he waved his free hand expansively in the air, "The amount of blood you shed in the war. The number of immortals you kill. It would certainly create an 'inconvenience', as our friend so charmingly put it."

"Or the other way around," she retorted. "Which would explain why he looked so cussed happy about the idea."

"Perhaps." Numair looked like he was actually considering the idea for a moment. "I never thought I'd be listening to fortune-telling Spidren."

"Irritating, isn't it?" Daine muttered.

There was another gap in the conversation. Daine decided to fill it by untying the piece of string Numair had fastened his hair back with, and combed out the horsetail with her fingernails. "It's only fair," she said in response to his amused look, "You play with my hair, I get to play with yours.

"I'm drying your hair." He said, his tone aloof. Daine smiled mischievously.

"And I'm sure that's your only reason for my being here, master mage."

"Maybe not," he said softly.

Daine raised an eyebrow in a mocking copy of his expression. "Prove me wrong." She invited, moving her hand from his hair to stroke the back of his neck. He kissed her, softly at first, warmth and love that slowly turned to fire and passion. His own hands drifted from her hair, tracing the line of her spine gently, leaving a trail of heat behind them. Daine shivered deliciously and pulled away slightly.

"This isn't helping us solve this mystery." She whispered, trying to catch her breath. Numair kissed the nape of her neck, his eyes as full of mischief as her own had been.

"It's more fun." He said.

"Definitely," she replied, kissing the end of his nose lightly. "Your eyes go wonderfully dark when we have fun."

"Believe it or not, magelet, so do yours." He stroked her cheek tenderly. "Of course, that's another thing this could be."

"What?" She asked, completely lost for a moment. He shrugged slightly and smiled into her eyes.

"Your parents. Your family. Your bloodline, sweetling."

"But that's nothing to do with blood! That's just who I am!" She protested. He caught her hand in his own and held it up in front of her eyes.

"Look," He said. As she watched, his hand seemed to become oddly transparent- as did hers, where their hands were touching. Strands of dark glitter wove through his hands even as bronze fire danced around hers. "The gift runs through our blood, but you've seen the copper fire of the animals, the green of the forest- even those who don't have the gift have this. Everything we have, everything we are, is rooted in our blood. It's why blood is so powerful- and why it is so sacred. Our parents, and their parents, until the beginning of time, chose to share their bloodlines with people they loved." He kissed her again, fleetingly, "As I love you, magelet."

He watched the fire dancing through their veins for a moment. "But, throughout time, there are people who spoil bloodlines- people who do not respect who they are, and do not love their families, and gradually the bloodline becomes less pure and less sacred."

"It's beautiful," She breathed, captivated. Numair smiled again, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"It's so rewarding teaching you, you know." He became slightly serious again. "But, do you see what I'm theorising?"

She nodded her head slightly. "Impurities in the bloodline. My father wouldn't have any."

"Exactly!" He took his hand away, letting the gift in it fade while she continued to look at her hand. "I would guess that your bloodline is extremely pure. Any impurities would come from your mother's line."

For a moment a fleeting strand of silver fire sped along Daine's wrist, then the magic on her hand began to fade. "So, what does all that mean?" She asked.

"I don't know. It could fit in with any number of our theories. If your blood is used in a spell, the spell will be more potent. If it's to do with your fighting then the gods will be supportive of your side." He was quiet for a moment. "It also means that any children you have will carry the same purity. You can't spoil a divine bloodline."

Daine had to stop herself from squeaking at the word. "Children?"

He laughed- a reassuring deep rumble- and started playing with her hair again. "I'm just hypothesising, sweetling."

Her eyes narrowed. "If that long word means anything other than 'guessing', then you're in trouble." She said.

"It does," He said reassuringly, "Although I do like the idea of being in trouble. Maybe I should say it means 'predicting'."

"You're too honest, Numair." She said, mock-seriously. "Now I know it doesn't."

"It does!" he crossed his heart. "On my word as a mage!"

Daine smiled. "I'm going to have to prove you wrong, I'm afraid."


	11. Chapter 11

They couldn't even say goodbye to her. Their house had been targeted, and suddenly all the neighbours were watching them with sharp eyes, looking for any misdemeanour to report to the police. Anything out of the ordinary would be commented on, exaggerated, and used to convict them. Jennifer took her daughter out in the pram one last time, walking slightly slower than usual to make sure she remembered every detail. She wore her hair loose over her face, knowing that if one tear slid down her cheek it would be taken as a sign of guilt. The only protection left for her family- for herself and her son- was to feign ignorance. To claim it was an innocent mistake. And so they had to act normally, and be seen by other people as acting normally.

Daniel watched the clock anxiously. He and Katy had spent the afternoon hiding the books in her attic, choosing a safe place behind the water heater to leave them. They made sure they'd finished a good hour before Katy expected her dad to come home, planning to start watching a film. Neither of them could concentrate on the antics of the quirky spy- both glanced at the clock every other minute. Eventually, Katy sighed and paused the DVD player.

"Look, this is ridiculous." She said, "If I get my history book, then we can talk about the... other book without my dad getting suspicious. It'll look like we're both reading the same thing. And it'll sound like we're talking about legends." He didn't answer, staring at the clock as the last minutes of his sister's time trickled away. Katy sighed, but not too loudly, and went upstairs for her book.

When she came back, Daniel was pulling the history book out of his pocket with an air of hypnotised calm. She turned on the CD player to cover their voices, and then made a point of slamming her book, essay and research folder down on the table so they made a crashing sound. He jumped and glared at her.

"Look, I'm sorry Daniel, but you have to act normally. You can't moon around. I understand, I do, but you have to try." She opened her folder to a draft of her essay, scrawled over in red pencil in her own hand as she marked her own mistakes. "If you can do that, you'll have the best alibi in Thayton."

"He's only a secretary." Daniel muttered, helping her to spread out some of the research papers. She shrugged.

"He works for the Sorrocks. That's enough." She said curtly. She took out a yellow pencil and started underlining key phrases on one of the research sheets. Daniel chose the more masculine blue option and began to do the same.

"Tell me about blood, then." Katy said quietly once they'd settled in to the task. Daniel glanced instinctively at the clock, then forced his eyes back on to the paper.

"Logically, the only way for blood to still be relevant would be in her descendants. Although it's not strictly the same blood, there must be something in it that singles it out. Like a very rare blood group, or a singular mutation. Something that's passed down genetically." He relaxed slightly into his comfort zone of scientific theory. "The only

difference would be that this would be a part of the gift, because it's a catalyst for change between the realms."

"So it would work... kind of like a key?" Katy asked, ringing a diagram of a burial site absently. Daniel shook his head.

"No, otherwise the gate would only open when the person wanted it to. Whereas this seems like the opposite."

He absentmindedly doodled onto a spare piece of paper. "Imagine a two-way swing door. One person starts pushing on one side, but if another person pushes with equal force the other way, the door will stay shut. The two things counterbalance one another."

"But the Spidren said the barrier was weakening." Katy said, and then shivered and hugged her shoulders nervously. "And it must be weakening again- if Stormwings can get through."

Daniel shrugged. "Then it must be unbalanced. Either the people on this side don't know how to lean against the door, or they're unable to. I would guess the precious Sorrocks are taking care of that." He added bitterly.

Katy let the comment slide, turning up the volume on the CD player slightly. "What does the book say?"

Daniel gave her an odd look. "I don't know. It's a book, not a fortune cookie."

"You could be completely wrong." Katy said deliberately. He shrugged.

"It's not the only theory I've got. This weakness could be a purely natural occurrence. The gene could have just been bred out. Another, more dominant gene could have taken its place. Or the population on the other side of the barrier is increasing faster than the population here."

"They could all be wrong. It could just be a spell that needs renewing." Katy said sardonically.

"For which they've asked the help of two ungifted teenagers?" He retorted. "Unlikely!"

"I don't think it's anything to do with DNA!" She felt her face growing red. "You fail to take into account that the damn book is sentient- someone, a person, is genuinely in danger, and you're talking about genetic mutations!" She forced her voice to quiet down. "You don't even seem to care any more. This is all just a project for you! That stormwing killed five people, and it took a hundred Sorrocks to kill it! Imagine what will happen if there's a thousand of them, or ten thousand, or more! Do you really think you're above caring? That you're one special person, in a world of thirty million corpses?"

"You're not a hero, Katy!" Daniel yelled, jumping to his feet. "You're never going to make a difference! Stop pretending that your self-righteous morals are going to save us all!" He barely realised there were tears trickling down his face. Katy stared at him, aghast.

"I don't know what to do any more." He said tiredly, sitting down and picking up the research notes like nothing had happened. "It's like, I almost know what's wrong, and I don't know why. And every mistake I make is hurting my family more and more."

Katy said nothing, reaching for the history book. "What's the next number?" She asked. He looked up dully, and then handed her a slip of paper. She glanced at it for a second.

"Sixty-seven." He said, without looking at her or the book.

She opened the book, flicking quickly through the last few pages. She breathed out rapidly when she reached the page. Daniel looked over, his eyes narrowed.

"It's blank." She said. They both looked up sharply as a key turned in the outside lock. Joint fear flushed through both their faces as they scrambled for their research notes. Before they could get the papers in order, the living room door opened and Katy's father poked his head around the door.

"Katy, have you got a guest.." he began, and then stopped at the sight of their flushed faces and half-open textbooks. His eyes shifted accusingly from one to the other.

"What were you kids doing?" He asked slowly. "You both look as guilty as hell."

Katy was the first to recover. Jumping up from the sofa, she sprang straight into her little-girl act. "Oh, dad! You're here!" She said too quickly. "You can be the first to congratulate us! We're going out!"

He narrowed his eyes."Going out." He repeated. The world held its breath as he chewed the idea over. Katy's smile never wavered, becoming almost demonic in its grimace.

"Katy, you know we told you no dating until you're old enough to know what's good for you."

"And who's to decide, sir? You?" Daniel asked, his bright voice brittle. The man glared at him for a long moment. For a terrifying second he scanned the table, where the history book was still lying open. Then his eyes softened.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, kids."

The door slammed behind him.

"Aaaaand... I'm grounded." Katy said fatally. As if it were the worst possible thing that could happen in the next few days. Daniel looked up at her, the corners of his mouth twitching oddly. And suddenly they were both laughing, shoulders shaking; great sobs of mirth that only needed tears to be hysterical crying.

"At least he won't forget your al...alibi." Katy choked, setting the pair off again.

"Doesn't he know you've been dating for years?" Daniel asked later on that evening, when he was hurriedly packing some of the work away. Katy shook her head.

"Tonight he'll read my diary to reassure himself, and will be convinced by the greatest work of fiction since the Sorrock's creation theory." She said calmly.

"Katy," Daniel started, and then tailed off. She looked at him quizzically, waiting for him to continue. He found his voice. "If... If I get arrested, I want you to know that I'm grateful for everything you've done for me." He picked up the history book and hesitated, then handed it to her. He picked up her normal copy of the book and stuffed it in his school bag.

She held the book tightly, not saying anything, as she watched him leave.


	12. Chapter 12

_The Sorrocks draw closer. The two worlds collide._

_This is the point at which everything matters, and the point where nothing can be done. The sleeping and the unknowing lie obliviously, the cold steel of inevitability unsheathed in their midst. The point where the only thing left to do, is dream._

_Daniel dreams..._

_His last night with his sister has broken his heart. Every smile, every gem of laughter, seemed more precious than the air he was breathing. His dreams are full of mirrored reflections- the photographs on the mantelpiece, grainy and eternal, the glow of the electric light burning above his family. He dreams of the light, the tiny reflection of something that isn't real. He sees the spark of the gift glowing in his sister's eyes, and knows that there is nothing evil about it.  
_  
The book spun in his imagination, blocking out the light. He waved it angrily away but it stayed, stubborn, unmovable. It seemed to wait, as if expecting him to do something.  
 _  
What can I do?_ He asked, his words swept away by the dream. The book didn't reply. It stayed still, almost as if it were watching him. Daniel frowned, suddenly remembering what Katy had said. __

 _It's sentient._ He thought, his words loud on the airless plain. For a second, a shifting spectrum of colour flickered across the cover, and once again the book was still. If it's sentient, then it can lie.

The book opened at this thought, spinning through its pages like an impatient schoolchild. A thousand pictures span past, too quickly to see- a thousand reflective moments of life. Daniel's eyes watered as he tried to see each one. They flew past his eyes- an impossible number of pages for such a small book. A thousand faces, the older and the younger, merging into one another on each page.

The book stopped. Suddenly, the pages were blank. Daniel reached out and picked up the book, not having to look at it to know that the wonderful images were gone. He mourned each one, as if their unseen beauty had died. The book remained open on its blank page, patiently.

A thin, scrawled line of text appeared. __

_We will not lie. Tell us what you want to know. We have answers. There is time._

He jumped, the surprise almost waking him up. He fumbled for a question. The first thing that he thinks of seemed trivial, but he asked it anyway.

"Why a history book?"

The writing appeared slowly, as if the writer was thinking of how to explain.

_It can be whatever it wants. Think of it as camouflage. It had to reach you, and you had to accept it. Your desire for knowledge led it to this form, and it will remain as such for as long as you possess it._

"But I gave it to Katy!" He protested.

 _We know._ The writing became more fluent. _You chose her to help you, and now she is involved. You are one and the same. There must be balance- one person researches, one person dreams. Now that she has the book, you can dream. If she gives it back to you, then she will begin to dream again. Do not think that you can choose one thing- there are some things we cannot tell you in the book, and some things that you cannot dream. We cannot show you things that are not in our memories._

"But I'm dreaming about the book."

 _It's a rather clever loophole, we must admit, but it probably won't work more than once._ The writing sounded almost smug. Daniel pulled a face at it and thought rapidly.

"My teacher gave me the book. Is she involved?"  
 _  
No._ The writing stopped. Daniel was just about to ask another question when it began again. The time was not right when she possessed the book, and she was eager to be rid of it.

"Why?"

 _We don't know. _The last two words were underlined, as if the writer was getting annoyed. _Why don't you ask her?_

Daniel bit his lip, trying not to get angry. The last thing he wanted to do was start an argument with a piece of stationary. The book stayed still, the dark words stark against its pristine pages.

"Someone put a lot of care into making this book." He said slowly. __

 _Yes.  
_  
"Damn it, that wasn't a question! Can't I think out loud in my own mind?"

_Certainly. But we will still hear you. And there is not much time. You should ask us questions._

"Why can't you just tell me what I need to know?"

_There are rules._

"Bullshit!"  
 _  
The gods wouldn't allow the creation of spells without making some rules!_ The writing seemed different- the words were far less focused and the handwriting was more rounded, less rapid. Daniel had the strangest feeling he was talking to someone else. _Stop messing about and ask us some questions. There isn't much time!_

There was a brief pause, then the measured writing began again.

 _Sorry. What we mean to say is that knowledge and understanding are different. We could show you everything, but you wouldn't understand it. You have to think for yourself._ The first voice wrote. Daniel blinked.

"Okay then: Where did the book come from? What does it have to do with the Sorrocks?"

The book grew warm in his hands- so warm that he dropped it. Rather than falling to the ground, it drifted slowly upwards, its pages spinning rapidly past. Once again the book was vast, and vibrant images filled it from cover to cover.

This time was different. This wasn't a painting- it was a grainy photograph, sepia and weathered. An old woman, her body completely covered in ragged shawls, was making her way slowly down a street. Fierce sepia snow swirled around her, lighting on her sepia hair and melting slowly.

Daniel brushed impatiently at his cheek, trying to look closer at the image. Whatever had distracted him touched his face again. He looked up, frowning, and gasped. The blankness of his dream was gone. In its place was a sepia world, cold and snowy. The woman was walking solidly towards him. She glanced up, straight into his eyes, and looked away again straight away. As she passed, he thought he could hear her muttering to herself.

He glanced down at the book again. The image was still there, exactly the same. He looked up- the woman was nearly out of sight, turning the corner into a dingy street. He carefully put his finger in the spine of the book to keep it open on the right page, and ran after her.

The woman looked around herself furtively before knocking on the small door. Daniel looked with her. The town was bustling- it must have been some kind of market day, because hundreds of people were heading in every direction. To Daniel's surprise, many of them were wearing charms or magical symbols on their clothes- this must be before the Sorrocks took over. None of the people spared so much as a glance for the woman, their heads bowed to avoid the snow. She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket as she waited and checked the address written on it, then folded her arms and waited.

The door opened half an inch. "Yes?" A voice asked curtly.

The woman kept her head bowed. "I'm here 'bout the advert. In the paper." She said quietly. The man's head emerged from the door a fraction, enough for Daniel to see his face. He gasped at the features he remembered from his history books- this was the man who had started it all. Lank, ash blonde hair hung greasily around his sepia face, a face that had none of the false dignity from his photographs.

"You are gifted?" Lawrence Sorr asked flatly. The woman nodded, the shawls flapping at her back. He hesitated, and then asked his second question. "And you didn't bring your family with you?"

"I'm a widow, sir." The woman said, shuffling her feet in the snow. "I got no family to bring."

The man smiled slightly. He opened the door jovially, letting the woman step in. Daniel slipped in the house behind her as she stamped her feet, dislodging the snow. Sorr was already walking away down the passageway, taking the candle with him. Without it, the windowless hall was dark as pitch. He spoke as quickly as he walked.

"This is a simple scientific experiment. I don't have the gift required to activate it, for which I advertised for you. You will obey all my orders without question, and you will leave with a tidy sum. If you question anything I ask you to do, you will be expelled from my laboratory. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." The woman said, hurrying after him.

Sorr opened the door into another room. It seemed impossibly bright after the hallway, dim oil lamps flickering in every corner. The light reflected off strange objects- glass bulbs, test tubes and metal structures littered every surface. Vast machines groaned in the corner, moving awkwardly.

The woman stopped in the doorway, lowering the shawls from her face. For a split second, Daniel thought she was a young woman, her face shocked and mutinous. The lights flickered, and once again she was an old lady with her mouth hanging open.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Sorr asked, his back to her. The lady muttered her agreement, still staring at the odd room. She looked intently at every table, her eyes searching.

Daniel saw it before she did- a familiar looking leather-bound book. It lay a little apart from the others, as if it had been read recently. Her eyes narrowed. Before Sorr turned around, she snatched it up and hid it in the folds of her clothes.

"This experiment is something called 'current'." Sorr said, turning around. He had a loom of wires in each hand, which he handed to her to hold. She took them, looking slightly too innocent.

"You may have heard about other experiments, using fuels and water power to turn turbines, and so on." Sorr carried on smoothly, attaching the other ends of the wires to one of the machine. "This method is more efficient- much more efficient- but thus far unreliable." He stood up, dusting off his knees elegantly, and gestured to the wires she was holding.

"The human gift seems to power machines up to fifty times more efficiently than burning fuels. If I can find some way to channel this power into some sort of holding cell, then we need never worry about power again!"

The woman blinked, and looked at the wires in her hands. She shrieked- the cables had fused themselves to her palms. She shook her hands futilely, trying to get them off.

"You want to use mages as... as firewood?!" She cried, her voice suddenly much higher pitched. Sorr raised an eyebrow.

"That's a rather crude way of putting it. I'm simply draining your gift." He took a few steps towards her. "Your book gave me the idea. Someone poured their entire gift into making that, you know. Look how long it's lasted! How many generations of your family did you say have had it?"

She didn't answer as she scrabbled at one of the wires with her fingernails. The worn skin on her hands gradually became smoother as the disguise spell she had used flickered and died. Sorr smiled sourly.

"Hello, Sarah. Did you think I wouldn't see through your disguise, because I'm not one of the high-and-mighty Gifted?"

"I trusted you! I told you about that book so you could help me, not steal it!" She said desperately. "The barrier is weakening! Don't you care?"

Sorr shrugged. "Magic is becoming defunct. The modern world has no place for pretty tricks. The awesome power of our ancestors is gone, and all that is left is enough energy to power a light bulb. Even if we reinforce the barrier, in a few hundred years it will fall anyway. It's only a matter of time."

"They won't let you do it! It's murder!" She said, her desperate struggles becoming weaker. Sorr grinned.

"This is the way of the future! The government doesn't care about people- it cares about money! And soon we will all be rich! Who's going to miss the gifted beggars from the streets, the gifted criminals? And I'm sure we can find some new crimes for the gifted to be guilty of..."

The woman's eyes slid slowly closed, and then flashed open as she forced herself to stay awake. "They will never speak to you again. They'll be trapped in the realm of the gods forever, and they won't be able to be freed without the book. They're the only ones keeping the world safe, and you're leaving them to die!" Her eyes fluttered shut. "They're so tired..." she whispered.

Sorr waited until she was still, then crouched and fished the book out of her pocket. Daniel slammed the book shut before he could see more, his eyes filling with tears.

"Why are you showing me this?" He demanded, his words echoing in the darkness. "Are you saying that that's what's going to happen to my sister? What does it have to do with anything? I asked you about the book!"

He opened the book, the pages swimming before his eyes as the next line of text appeared. __

_The book was created to protect the mortal realm. It was the only thing we could leave behind of ourselves. But it was used for a bad purpose. The Sorrocks know about the book, and for centuries they have been hunting down every pair who finds it._

"You didn't have to show me that, though!" He cried.  
 _  
We are sorry. We know that death is something unusual to your time. We wanted to show you what your ancestors were prepared to do, to protect the book and each other._

_This is not a game._

_If you help us, we can stop the Sorrocks. The immortals will return, and your world will be the better for it. We fought against the immortals before, and mankind became complacent. Cruel. You need the immortals for freedom to return._

_But you must act quickly. Your sister will be safe for now._

The pages spun to a double blank page. The words appeared almost as suddenly as the page was opened.

_RUN!_

Daniel opened his eyes, his head ringing. The grey light of dawn hurt his eyes. Fear pounded in his chest.

"Katy..." He whispered, and ran.


	13. Chapter 13

King Jonathan, supreme ruler of Tortall and wielder of the Dominion Jewel, felt rather out of his depth. He could match most mages in their intellectual battles, but Numair always managed to make him feel very stupid. It was the way he explained everything very patiently, and waited for some proof of understanding before moving on to the next point. It was also the way he decided the best time to hold a meeting was in the middle of breakfast. Jon chewed a slice of toasted bread slowly while Numair told him stories about Spidren and Barriers and Blood.

"I understand what you're saying," He said eventually, "But... don't you think you're jumping to conclusions?"

Numair blinked. "It's a very considered theory, I assure you."

"Undoubtedly." Jonathan found himself talking in long words out of pure cussedness. "I'm just saying that you're basing all your findings on circumstintial evidence."

"Circumstantial, you mean?" Numair corrected absently, tapping his fingers on the table thoughtfully. He sat down on the opposite side of the table and placed a book next to Jon's glass of juice.

"Whatf that?" The king asked with his mouth full.

"I found it yesterday. It describes the three barriers- how they were created. How they can be destroyed. It must have been Ozorne's most treasured possession."

Jonathan choked on his toast and grabbed the book, opening it avidly. He spared a moment to glare at the lanky mage.

"Why didn't you show this to me as soon as you found it?" He demanded.

"It's in code. And I got distracted." Numair smiled slightly. Jonathan missed this, pouring over the book, his breakfast forgotten. Numair took advantage of the situation to steal a piece of toast.

"Do you have a translating spell?" Jonathan breathed.

"Part of one." The mage shrugged and bit in to the toast. "I wanted to get your permission before I worked on the rest of it. Some of the things in that book must be..."

"Apocalyppic." Jon stumbled over the word again in his excitement.

"Apocalyptic, yes." Numair said automatically.

"Damn it, Numair, if you correct my vocabulary one more time I will personally change the law to make every three- and four-syllable word illegal!" Jon snapped. He thumbed through the book. "All these pages are blank!"

"It's a veritably outstanding encoding." He smiled at the king's expression and began casting the translation spell. The mage's hands began to glow. A small pearl of light appeared

in his fingertips, shimmering silver and black. He reached over the table and offered it to Jonathan. As soon as the king had the spell, it sank into his fingertips. Eagarly, he touched the pages of the book.

"Nothing." He said, disappointed.

"Ask it a question."

Jonathan's eyebrows drew together. "It's not the trickster's day today, is it?" He looked at the book. "Hello, um, book. What is two times two?"

The page remained obstinately blank. Jonathan glared at Numair, who swallowed his mouthful of toast hurriedly.

"I meant, ask it a question it knows the answer to." He said quickly. "Ask it about the barrier. And you don't need to say hello to it, it's only a spell. It makes sure that only people who already know what's written in it can read it."

Jon rolled his eyes, but turned back to the book. "Is there a central barrier?" He asked. Instantly, scrolling black writing spread across the page. The writing was ludicrously neat, like the monk's script the scribes in the palace used. There was illumination on the first letter, and even a small illustration in the corner of the page. Jonathan whistled softly, impressed.

"It says yes." Numair said impatiently when Jon began to read the tiny print. "Can't you take my word for it?"

"No." Curtly, without looking up: "I'm on the strictest instructions not to believe a word you say without evidence."

Numair flushed angrily. "What have I done to annoy Thayet?"

Jon stayed silent, his forehead furrowing as he came across a challenging sentence. Numair thought for a moment, his blush deepening.

"Oh. She found out. How?" He asked quietly. Jon's eyebrows rose as he finished the page.

"You haven't been very discrete. Daine's been sleeping in your room. Hiring palace cleaners is like having a private network of gossipy spies. And the way you look at each other... it's obvious." He said flatly.

Numair stared at the table, struggling to find something to say- some way to explain. He'd been on the brink of explaining to people before the Immortals had disappeared, and suddenly everyone was so caught up in intrigue. He envied Daine- if she told the horses their secret, who else was going to hear about it?

He heard laughter. He looked up. Unbelievably, Jon was laughing at him. He blinked, totally confused. Jon wiped his eyes.

"I'm not angry- Thayet's not angry. We're very, very happy for you. For both of you." He smiled widely, "I just wanted to see the expression on your fa-ace!" He burst out laughing again. Numair gaped at him, and then started laughing as well.

"That was cruel!" He gasped, "I thought you were furious at us!"

"No, but I needed to ask you about your theory, and it has to do with... well." Jon said, calming down enough to be slightly embarrassed. "I didn't quite know how to tell you that we knew. The problem is: Don't you think this might be obscuring your vision?"

"In what way?" Numair was completely bemused. Jon made a meaningless movement of his hands.

"Well, this talk about blood- there's not much to suggest it's anything to do with Daine at all. I admit that her blood is special, but she's not the only god-child in this realm. Why would the fate of the realms be her responsibility? If killing her would end everything, then why didn't more immortals attack her?" He steepled his fingers thoughtfully and peered over them. "What I'm saying is that you probably can't even imagine the idea... the fact that, if Daine was the only issue, she'd already be dead."

"If it was a scout..." Numair started, then paled considerably. "Dear gods, she'd be in terrible danger."

Jon held up a hand, stopping the mage from getting up. "Don't. I'm just guessing here. But you see what I mean? If you're right about her blood, for example, then it'd also mean you'd have to consider using it in a spell."

Numair flinched. "I wouldn't..." he began darkly. Jon shook his head.

"If it was the only thing to do, if it would save thousands of lives, then she would beg you to cast that spell. And you know that. You mustn't let the fact that you love her stop you from helping innocent people. You have to consider all the possibilities, not just the ones that keep her safe. Again, I'm just guessing, so there's no need to glare at me like that."

"Sorry." Numair sighed and stared at his hands. Jon nodded in acknowledgement of the apology, and tapped the book with his fingernails.

"This describes how the barriers were created. Have you managed to translate any more?"

"No," Numair's expression brightened slightly, "But we can ascertain from the creation of the barriers that they're quite simple to establish- if you have enough power, that is. And then they're maintained by more power. Daine said that the immortals went over to the divine realm, so they must be using their power while the gods recover from the Chaos War. Any escapees were from the transition, I bet."

"Do you think the magic of the immortals is equal to that of the gods?"

"There are more immortals than gods," Numair replied slowly. "The power should be about equal."

"In its amount, but not in its form." Jon's voice was slow, as if he were thinking out loud. "The gods have a huge variety of different magics- the gift, wild magic, even power to raise the dead. The immortals don't. Do you think that makes a difference?"

Numair was just about to answer when there was a knock on the door. Both men jumped.

"Come in," Jonathan said, clearing his throat. The heavy oak door swung open a few inches and Daine stepped in. She smiled at Numair, her eyes lighting up brilliantly, and then remembered there was someone else in the room and blushed.

"Um, Lindhall sent me with a message for Numair." She stammered. "He says he's worked out the next part of the translating spell, and he needs someone with more than two brain-cells to take notes." She thought over the message and laughed, "He chased all the clerks out of the library, and then realised there was no-one for him to boss around."

"Poor man." Numair said drily, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "May we go, Jon?"

"Not yet," Jon gestured for Daine to come in and close the door. She leaned against the door frame nonchalantly, her eyes curious as the king stood up. He picked up the book from the table and gave it back to Numair, who pocketed it.

"Could you make a book like this? It would be useful, for spies and so on." He asked quietly. Numair nodded.

"I think I could make a better one- one that can decide who to disclose information to, rather than one activated by the right words. But it might take a while."

"Try." Jon smiled suddenly and shook Numair's hand, then kissed a very surprised Daine on her cheek. "And, congratulations to you both! You were meant for each other."

Daine laughed. "You're making Numair jealous," She pointed out, "You should have kissed him, as well."

"I'd prefer to leave that to you." Jon said, mock-seriously. He watched them leave the room, inescapable sadness filling his eyes.

"And I hope, for both your sakes, that all my theories are wrong." He muttered fervently after the door was shut.


	14. Chapter 14

Daniel ran.

All he knew was the sound of his own breathing as he ran in and out of the amber lamp light- a thousand flickering pools of light that seemed too alive now to bear standing near. The world was transformed- what had been an interesting game in the daylight was now so dangerous it didn't seem real. Every shadow was a Sorrock, waiting to catch him. Every patch of light was a travesty.

Light, dark, light, dark...

The normal peacekeeper guard had been doubled after the stormwing attack, and every street corner held another stranger. He forced himself to slow down, to act casually- though how a half-dressed teenager running through the streets at two in the morning could look normal was beyond him. Maybe he should act drunk...

He turned into an alley, letting his feet guide him along the shortcut he had taken so many innocent times before. Finally he could run again! His mind pulsed to the slapping sound his trainers made on the concrete pavement- light, dark, true, lie, safe, danger...

Even through his panicked confusion, he knew one thing for certain- that the dream was real. That the book hadn't lied. And Katy was in danger. The Sorrocks knew about the book, and he'd left it with Katy- right under her father's nose! A man who read his daughter's diary wouldn't respect the privacy of her schoolbooks for a second.

He tripped and fell, lying winded in the darkness. His heartbeat thudded in his ears. For a split second, he wished he'd taken up track in school instead of studying. Then maybe none of this would have happened...

The books words spun in his head. RUN!

He forced himself to his feet, every breath hitching like icicles in his throat, and ran. Strange blue lights flickered in the sky. He flew around the last corner and stopped, feeling sick. Two cars lurked outside Katy's house, their windows blacked out and their blue lights flashing. A black van sat between them, one door half open. Guards leaned idly against the cars, laughing and joking with each other as if they weren't about to destroy someone's life.

I'm too late, Daniel thought numbly. He ducked into someone's garden and knelt behind their wall, gazing over the top in disbelief. The front door opened, and a man stepped out, closing the door neatly behind him. His neat suit and tense walk marked him apart from the guards: a Sorrock. He nodded to the guards, who stubbed out their cigarettes and headed for the house. The Sorrock opened the door again, and Katy's father walked out.

His face was completely blank as he dragged his daughter out of the house. She followed him calmly enough, her own expression tearful but accepting. She was carrying a rucksack and was fully dressed, so evidently she'd had some warning that they were coming to take her away. As soon as she was outside she shook her father's hand from her arm and walked towards the van, her chin raised defiantly.

A guard snatched the bag from her as she walked past. She stood still and watched him as he pulled out clothes, a hairbrush... but no book.

"Are you finished?" She asked calmly, her voice only shaking slightly. The guard spat on the ground and handed the bag back, clothes still spilling out of it. She pushed them back in and zipped up the flaps, turning away from the man as she did so. She glanced up... and caught sight of Daniel.

He ducked down rapidly, praying the guards wouldn't notice her reaction. When he dared to glance over the wall again, she was climbing into the van. A sardonic smile played

over her features as she waved goodbye to her father, and then the door was slammed behind her.

And that was that.

The convoy of cars began to drive away. Daniel watched with disbelief as Katy's father walked back into the house as if he'd been out enjoying the night air. The lights gone, the world settled into the calm velvet darkness of light.

And then the world exploded. A noise so loud it was more a feeling than a sound, a flash of light that was so bright it was dark, and the night was destroyed. Daniel jumped up and sprinted in the direction of the cars, forgetting all about the stitch in his side and his burning lungs.

Sirens shrieked all over the town as more people woke up, as fire spread into the streets. More and more people stood in the road, looking dazed, hardly moving. They would probably pass this off as another attack by the revolutionaries, and go back to bed. But not before the Sorrocks questioned each and every one of them...

Daniel ran past them. The explosion had happened on the junction onto the motorway- a silent strip of concrete and tarmac, dramatically floodlit and horribly mutilated.

The cars were hardly cars any more, more twisted lumps of scrap metal. The van was lying on its side, the undercarriage completely blown away. A huge wound had been torn in the side of it, and both the doors had been blown clear. Daniel didn't have to look around to know the guards were dead- the smell of burning meat was sour in the air. He took everything in as a series of photographs, almost as if he was still in the book- the burning oil, the way the metal frames had folded like paper, the smouldering crater in the ground, the heat...

And Katy, crouched by the ruin of the van, clutching her head in her hands. Hurt, burned on her arms, but alive- alive! Daniel tripped over wreckage as he ran towards her. She didn't look up as he knelt beside her, suddenly out of breath.

"Ka..." He gasped, and doubled over, trying to draw breath as the inky smoke was blown towards them. For a few horrible seconds he couldn't breathe or see; all he could hear was the scream of sirens coming towards them.

When the smoke cleared, Katy was looking up, her eyes oddly glazed as she looked at the wreckage of the van. Daniel touched her shoulder, but she didn't react.

Shell shocked. He thought clinically. She must have been blown clear.

"Katy, we have to get out of here." He said frantically, "There might be another bomb, or the petrol tanks could go up!" He stood up, dragging her up with him. She stood up, her eyes still fixed on the wreckage. Daniel half-stumbled over the molten ground, dragging her after him and trying to make sure she didn't trip. They ran onto the grass verge and crouched behind a small cluster of trees.

Katy seemed to be snapping out of her trance, now she couldn't see the wreckage. Acrid smoke blew over on the breeze, but the trees blocked a lot of the light from the fires. She began to rub the burns on her arms, and then blinked and looked at Daniel. He tried to smile and failed dramatically.

"I can't hear." She said too loudly. Daniel nodded and put a finger to his lips, pointing to the road. Katy nodded her understanding- Sorrocks were coming- and returned to rubbing her arms and her ears. Daniel waited until they had left their cars and were arguing in loud voices, and then began to run along the verge. Katy followed him. They slowed to a walk after a few hundred meters, carrying on until they found a small patch of wild land off the edge of the verge. The enticing sound of a flowing river was all Daniel needed to hear- he turned and headed straight for it.

It was a tiny stream, but of good fresh water. The two teenagers rinsed the taste of smoke out of their mouths and noses gratefully. Katy sat down and began pouring water over

the burns on her arms, wincing. When they were numb, she took her rucksack off with difficulty and pulled a shirt out of it.

"Can you help me?" She asked Daniel uncertainly, and then looked relieved that she could hear her own voice. "Tear this into strips?"

"Are you alright?" Daniel asked as he soaked the strips in the water and helped her bandage her arms. She shrugged and nodded at the same time. Daniel smiled and tried to joke. "It's lucky there's a revolution going on!"

She looked at him, her eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Well the... the bomb." He stumbled over the word. Like the monster, it seemed unreal to actually say the word. Things like this only happen to other people!

"Oh." She was silent for a moment, chewing on her lip. "It wasn't a bomb."

"It...?"

"It wasn't a bomb." She said it more clearly, almost defiantly. "It was a spell."

"A spell!" Daniel hardly heard his own voice squeak. "You have the Gi... You had a spell? Is that why you were so calm?"

She glared at him, a trace of fire back in her eyes. "No, you moron! I didn't know it was going to happen! It's not like..." She bit her lip and stared at the water, her eyes filling with tears. "People died back there, didn't they?"

"They were going to kill you!" Daniel snapped. Her head spun around so suddenly her hair swung into his face.

"No! Don't you think that! My dad would never let them! I would have been fine!" She stood up abruptly, tearing at the front of her shirt. Daniel thought about asking her if she'd gone mad, and then realised she'd wedged the book into the belt of her jeans. She threw it on the floor and spat on it.

"But you have the gift," Daniel said uncertainly, "They..."

"I don't have the gift. Not like that! I can make candles light. I can't make things blow up! I would have been fine if it wasn't for that...stupid... book!" She sat back down again and began pulling clumps of grass up murderously. "And now I'm a murderess, and you're a...a stormwing summoner, and we're both going to be exterminated?"

"You always wanted an adventure," Daniel said without thinking. Katy stared at him incredulously for a moment, and then, unbelievably, started to laugh. A low, grating sound that was nearer tears than laughter. Daniel lay back against the grass, staring at the sky and waiting awkwardly for her to finish. He felt amazingly peaceful, like he finally knew what was going on. The book had led the way, and for the moment, they were safe.

"Tell me what happened." He said.

"The book did it." Katy replied. "The book did all of it."


	15. Chapter 15

Echo Jensen woke up at six, and immediately wished she hadn't. Her dreams had been full of pain- people screaming, people frightened- dreams that had left her wakeful and soaked in sweat. She thought about reading to take her mind away, but couldn't find a book she'd fancied reading. They were all history books- bloody wars and vicious warlords that would make her nightmares worse. Eventually she'd lost herself in a bottle of cheap, imported Gallan wine, and now her head was wreaking its revenge. She groaned and pressed a cool hand to her forehead.

Books lay scattered around her flat like war casualties, some torn, some laying open, and all in her way as she staggered to the bathroom. Cold water made her feel slightly more awake, but she decided to go back to bed. She couldn't face staring at the books for another day.

After all, this is what study leave is for. She thought foggily, being paid to not-teach.

Sleep was just dragging her under its wing again when someone knocked rapidly at the door. Echo cursed and hurled a pillow towards it.

"Go 'way!" She muttered, burrowing deeper into her duvet. The knocking continued. Swearing loudly, she swung her legs back out of bed and stumbled towards the door. Just in time, she remembered to drag on a dressing gown and wipe some of the sleep from her eyes. She unhooked the chain from the door and pulled it open.

"Yes?" She asked curtly. The brightness of the hallway was a cutting blur, but she recognised the voice.

"Miss Jensen, we found your number in the phonebook and..."

"Daniel Kitwake?" She said disbelievingly, "What the hell are you doing here? You won't get any extra credit, you know."

"This isn't about the assignment." Daniel said rapidly, "Well, it is, but..."

Echo blinked a few times. The hallway dissolved in green shadows, and suddenly she could see. She felt her jaw drop as she saw the two teenagers properly. Both looked grey, as if they'd not slept for weeks. Katy's clothes were torn, and rough strips of cloth were wrapped around her arms. A faint, sweet smell of smoke came from both of them, and ash darkened their hair. Under it, their eyes were frightened and dark and terrifying.

"I'm still asleep." She said flatly. They shook their heads. "Then, I'm drunk. You're not standing on my doorstep at six in the morning, looking like war victims and asking me about homework."

They hesitated, and nodded. Echo rested her head against the doorframe with an audible thud. Both pairs of eyes followed her. She smiled sardonically.

"Of course you are. I'm hung over, kids. I'm having a mug of coffee before you tell me any of what I'm sure is a riveting story. If you're still here by the time the kettle's boiled, I'll know you're real." She turned without another word and walked into the kitchen, leaving the door open behind her. Daniel pulled a face at her as they stepped through, and locked the door behind him. They stood awkwardly in the entryway for a moment, and then groped their way in the darkness to what they guessed was the lounge. It was a potential avalanche of books. Shelves lined the walls, but for some reason were completely empty- every book was on the floor.

"What a dump." Katy remarked absently, nudging a book aside with her shoe. Daniel shifted a stack of papers off a sofa and sat down.

"Don't knock it," He said, unable to mask a sigh of relief as he sank into the cushions. "It's better than the motorway."

"Well, we can at least have some light." She replied, and pulled the blind up. Bright autumn sunlight streamed in. Katy sat down next to Daniel, and Echo walked back into the room with three chipped coffee mugs and a coffee pot. She handed them out and sat down cross-legged on the floor. She'd found time to get dressed, her usual neat teacher's garb replaced by a scruffy T-shirt and jeans. For some reason, Katy found her eyes drawn to the shirt. A large-eyed pony was looking miserably at a large slogan: Save the Animals! The idea seemed ridiculous.

"Forgive me if I'm not formally attired." Echo said sharply, catching her gaze. "The company I keep doesn't call for it."

Katy blushed. "Thanks for the coffee, miss." she said quietly.

"And you!" Echo turned her sharp eyes on Daniel, who stared back evenly. "There's nothing about my home to knock, thank you very much. I've lost something, and spent all my effort looking for it rather than preparing for your arrival."

"We're sorry, miss!" Katy cried, "We didn't mean to be rude, we just..."

"It was a book you lost, wasn't it?" Daniel asked calmly. The teacher gestured at the floor and took a long draw of coffee.

"Figure that out all by yourself, genius?"

"A very old book. A family heirloom. And it went missing last week." Daniel drank his own coffee and took the book out of his pocket. "It doesn't look like your book, but it is. It says it can change its appearance."

Echo took the book reverently, all sarcasm gone from her voice. "It speaks to you?" She asked. Daniel nodded. "How did you find it?"

"You gave it to me. Did you store our history books here?" He hardly waited for the teacher to nod. "It changed into a history book- camouflaged itself. And then you handed it to me last week."

"It... tricked me!" Echo's voice was wondering, and slightly bitter. "It has a spell on it... it can't be stolen, only given to other people. It was stolen once, a few hundred years ago, and when my family got it back we made sure it couldn't be stolen again. But it tricked me!" She laughed suddenly, and then clutched at her head. Black fire ran from her fingertips to her forehead, and she smiled as her headache faded. She pulled a face at the teenager's shocked expressions.

"Oh, don't be such ninnies. There are more Gifted than you know about, and I'm almost certain that one of you has the Gift as well. You're hardly going to turn me in to the Sorrocks, are you?" They shook their heads. She smiled. "Now, all pretences aside, it's obvious you two are in trouble. But you're also messing up my sofa, so you'll have to get changed. You can use the shower if you like, and I'll find you something to wear."

Daniel washed first, watching the water turn smoky grey in disbelief. He hadn't realised how filthy he was. The water was low-pressure and lukewarm, but wonderfully soothing. All the muscles in his legs hurt less as the warmth hit them. The bathroom was as cramped as the rest of the house, and he could hear Katy and Miss Jensen speaking in low voices on the other side of the wall. He dressed in the slightly crumpled clothes his teacher had insisted were "a friend's", and unlocked the door.

Miss Jensen was kneeling on the floor next to Katy, holding her wrists with both hands. The same black fire played over her arms, pooling on the raised blisters that covered her skin. As Daniel watched in disbelief, the burns faded and disappeared.

"How... do you do that?" He asked slowly. Miss Jensen glanced at him, and then turned back to Katy and touched a finger to her ear.

"I'm a healer. My mother trained me, as did her father, and his father. We're not ashamed of who we are." She said sharply. Katy gave her a smile of thanks, then picked up her rucksack and walked into the bathroom. She raised her eyebrows warningly at Daniel on her way past.

"I didn't mean that." Daniel snapped back. "I mean, that takes some serious magic. There's not supposed to be any strong magic around."

She looked at him, her eyes frankly amused. "Did you believe everything I taught you at school? How sweet." Her smile faded. "The Gifted find ways to protect themselves, Daniel. We can hide our magic, or divert the Gift-seekers, or any number of things. Katy knows all this- her father has been hiding her for years. She told me so."

"Her father has the gift?" Daniel felt dizzy. It made no sense! "But, he turned her in for it this morning!"

"He turned her in for keeping contraband books in the attic." Miss Jensen's eyes were cold. "She would have been imprisoned on that charge, but kept alive. He couldn't risk his position in the Sorrock Council on sympathy, or love. Too many people depend on him."

Daniel's voice seemed very far away."He's a spy?"

Miss Jensen shrugged. "As I said, people depend on him. Advance warnings, and so on."

Daniel was silent for a moment, and then stood up and started stacking books back on the shelves.

"Alphabetical order, please, Daniel."

"Yes, Miss Jensen." He replied automatically, noting the neat letter-labels on the shelves. He heard soft laughter from behind him.

"Under the circumstances, Daniel, you might as well call me Echo. I hardly think you'll be coming back to school."

"Echo." He repeated. Already, a large square of floor was showing where books had been. The carpet underneath was threadbare, but neat. "There's a secret society of mages?"

She laughed. "No, that makes it sound rather sinister. We're just a group of people trying to lead ordinary lives. We look out for each other. We tend to take jobs where we can have influence over other people, so that if we see someone with the Gift we have the power to help them."

"I'm not buying that for a second!" Daniel's voice was angry as he slammed a boxset into a corner shelf. "You're trying to tell me you're all nice, sweet, helpful people, who don't care that you're being discriminated against?"

"I'm trying to keep you safe." She replied, stacking books easily into order. "We survive. That's all. There are some who ask us to rebel, but that would only make the Sorrocks look justified in their persecution. Better to let the ungifted think they're better than us," She smiled slightly, showing teeth. "Even though you're all so obviously inferior."

He stared at her in disbelief.

The door clicked open behind them. Katy looked from face to face. "What's going on?" She asked. Echo shrugged and put her pile of books on the shelf.

"We just turned his world upside-down. Let's give him time to recover." She sat down and refilled their coffee mugs from the pot. "Tell me what happened to you."

Daniel spoke first, telling her about finding the book and starting what he'd thought of as a diverting puzzle. He didn't tell her about Leanne or the contraband books: he didn't trust what she'd said about being inferior, and didn't like the idea of Revolutionaries raising his sister. He told up to the end of his dream and stopped, not knowing how to explain the events of that morning.

"It told me to run- to help Katy, and I ran. I didn't know I could run like that."

"You probably can't." Echo said icily. She nodded at Katy. "You. Your father turned you in. Since you're not in a prison right now, you must have escaped somehow. What happened?"

Katy's voice was unusually hesitant.

"My father told me not to fight, that I'd be safe if I cooperated. So I did. I packed some clothes, and got dressed, and said goodbye to my mom. And then, for some reason, I decided to take the book with me. It was like it was calling me.

"I knew I couldn't put it in my bag- dad said they'd search it. So I tucked it under my shirt. I walked out to the van. They searched my bag, but didn't search me- I'm a Sorrock's daughter, after all. And then I was in the van, and it was driving away.

"It had hardly gone five meters before I began to feel really uncomfortable. The book was... was glowing. It was really hot, almost burning. I thought there must be a magic barrier or something in the van, but nobody seemed to know. The drivers never turned around. I opened the book, and there was a picture there. Glowing."

"Who was it of?" Daniel asked, captivated. Katy's eyes narrowed.

"I don't know. There didn't seem to be any people in it. It was beautiful, but I can't remember... it... it was like a light bulb. Like the sun. Something glowing, giving out rays, but at the same time... feeding on the light. I forgot I was in a Sorrock van and just stared at it. It was like a beating heart. It was like a jewel. It was lovely."

"Get on with the story." Echo sounded bored. Katy blushed and shook her head, as if to shake away the image.

"Sorry. Anyway, the picture... I felt like if I could just reach out and touch it, I would be safe. So, I did.

"Suddenly, I couldn't see the van any more. The picture was all around me, but it was burning. The light was moving, and it was suddenly frightening- more frightening than the Sorrocks, even. I tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to pull away to. Does this make any sense?"

"Yes. Carry on." Echo's voice was blunt, but her eyes shone as she looked at the book. Katy nodded.

"I struggled to get away, and there was suddenly a voice in the fire. It told me not to be frightened, that I would be safe if I listened. It said it needed a bridge between the realms. It asked me if I understood.

"I didn't, but I nodded anyway. It didn't seem like the right place or time for an argument. The voice didn't speak again. And then I was sitting in the van, looking at a drawing again. I thought I'd fallen asleep and dreamed the whole thing.

And then, there was black fire everywhere. It made a...sort of cage around me. I couldn't see out. And then an enormous noise, so loud I couldn't hear anything afterwards. I heard the Sorrocks screaming. I heard the cars exploding. I heard a strange whistling noise- the water spilling from the radiators, I guess. And then the cage faded, and I was outside, and everything was on fire..." Her voice tailed off. "It was like my own death sentence."

Daniel was flicking through the book, apparently looking for the picture she'd described. At Katy's last sentence he looked up and spoke, his voice oddly strained.

"Page sixty-seven is gone. It's all charred, and black. It's gone."

"Of course it's gone!" Echo said, her strident voice breaking the hush. "The bridge has been destroyed!"

Katy looked up, her eyes red. "Is that what the voice meant?"

"Magic can cross the realms, since the barriers are made of magic, but it needs direction. And it costs dearly." Echo spoke sparingly, as if she were reciting a lesson she'd learned from childhood. "I think we need to speak to the others."

"There's another page," Daniel said, "Underneath the burned one. It has writing on it."

They peered at the book together, heads bunched together like curious schoolchildren. The writing was rough, as if the writer was angry or hurried.  
 _  
We cannot prevail. The barrier is weakening. No more time, no more generations- this is your last chance. Help us!_


	16. Chapter 16

"Goddess bless it!" Numair threw the book across the room violently and decided his curse wasn't strong enough for the damn thing. "May your pages be torn out by demons and thrown into the depths of chaos!"

The book didn't move. No demons appeared. A flake of paint floated slowly onto the floor from where the book had hit the wall. Numair could have sworn the damn book looked smug. The mage folded his arms and glared at it, fighting off the urge to sulk.

It might well look smug, he thought, The amount of magic I've been feeding it. I'm surprised it hasn't grown.

Not that his research had been totally useless, though. The book was mostly decoded now, surrendering some very useful information. It had explained how the barriers distributed their power, so it became more obvious where the weak spots were. The army were now distributed along these points- seemingly random places where immortals could appear without a second's warning. Usually these were remote, desolate areas- probably abandoned due to immortal attacks in the past war. But some of them were frighteningly close. One, for example, was right in the heart of the palace catacombs. Jonathan had immediately ordered them sealed and guarded, but for all they knew there could be a thousand Spidren under their feet, just biding their time.

But for some reason this knowledge just made decoding the book more infuriating. Knowing the weak points in the barrier didn't tell him how to reinforce them, any more than knowing the summoning spell that drew ink into the pages told him how the book formed coherent words. Each breath of knowledge just reinforced how little he really knew. And it didn't help that he was furious with Daine, either.

He had identified one of the simpler spells in the book, and had been explaining it to her. It was essentially a speaking spell, but instead of saying and hearing the words, the speaker wrote them down and they appeared written on the receiving piece of paper.

"Is that how the book works?" She asked flatly, only giving the paper a cursory glance. Numair shook his head.

"No. This is just a way of speaking. Once the words are written down, they're there forever. They can't be changed, or summoned, or hidden- they're simply ink on parchment. There's nothing magical about them."

"Then why is it in the book in the first place?" Daine sounded more exasperated than curious. "It's just plain misleading."

"I think the book is a composite of lots of different spells. Maybe a part of this spell acts in conjunction with a parallel incantation in an equally unsophisticated spell, creating a much more complicated spell."

"I'm glad you can make it sound so simple." She picked up the book and began flicking through the pages. She raised an eyebrow when Numair made an involuntary movement towards the book. "Don't worry, I won't hurt it."

"It's not the book I'm worried about." He said, half-serious. Daine stood up, the book lightly clasped in one hand.

"That's what I wanted to talk about. Not some stupid spell... this... _this."_ She gestured out of the window towards the forest. "One word from a dying monster, and suddenly the war revolves around me? It's ridiculous my staying in the castle for weeks on end, just on the off-chance that I'm in danger! I want to help my friends. I need to help them. And between you and the others you're making me feel like a caged starling!"

"But..." Numair started. She shook her head impatiently.

"No." She threw the book onto the table, where it dispatched a small cloud of dust from its pages. "I don't think the answer's going to be in there. I don't think there's anything in that book but a group of paranoid mages, trying to stop other mages from stealing their speaking spells."

"Barrier spells." He said quietly. Daine smiled wryly.

"Yes, Barrier Spells. Of course. How stupid of me to forget!" She picked the book up again. "What proof have you found in here that tells you it can help us? It could be a diversion!"

"It just needs a key." He replied quickly.

Daine looked up from the book and smiled slowly, tapping the spine with her nails. "You're convinced, aren't you? You're absolutely sure there's something between this book and what the Spidren told me."

"It's the only book in Ozorne's collection with that amount of protection on it." Numair spoke rapidly. "Nothing else comes close. And the magic in it only began to show after you spoke to the Spidren- before that, it looked like every other book."

She nodded slowly. "You're certain." She turned the book over in her hands, looking at it closely. "I think you've made it too complicated."

He blinked and reached for the book, but she snatched it away and continued examining it.

"I'm sorry. I've gone stir-crazy, I think. Too much time indoors. If I unlock the book, will you let me go and help my friends?"

"You can't unlock it." He replied coldly. "Daine, what's wrong with you?"

"Numair, you've been cooped up in this room, with that rotten book, for weeks." She said softly. "Being shut in... it's driving me mad, and I've been around the keep and thinking about other things. I dread to think what this book is doing to you. Your thoughts are all tangled around spells and summonings and I-don't-know-what's. I know you want to protect me, but I can't stand to be away from the People like this."

"The Immortals want to kill you." He reminded her. She shrugged and put the book down on the table.

"People have been trying to kill me for years. It doesn't mean I should hide from them like this. The Spidren said that if I did nothing, the barrier would still fall... so I must have to do something to maintain it. And I can't do anything stuck in here." She said the last words with determined finality and drew her belt knife. "I'm sure this isn't what the Spidren meant, but if what he was talking about and this book are linked, it's worth a try."

"What..." Numair started, and then made a mad grab for the book. Daine picked it up again and took a few steps back.

"No! Don't!" Daine said when she saw the glow of summoning magic around his hand. "I'm not going to _hurt_ it, for Mithros' sake!"

"Hurt the _book?_ You have no idea what you're doing!" He yelled.

"I can read, too. What do you think I've been doing the past fortnight? You said you believed the Spidren!" She retorted. Without waiting for him to reply or make another grab for the book, she slit the ball of her thumb and pressed the cut against the spine of the book.

"I am Veralidaine Sarrasri, daughter of the Gods." She said clearly to the book. "I give you blood as proof. I order you to reveal your secrets!"

"That's dangerous!" Numair snatched the book from her hand, his dark eyes furious. "It's the darkest of black magic! I told you it was..."

"It worked." She said quietly. Numair flinched and glared at the book. Its pages had spun open to a blank page, where neat words were now forming.  
 _  
Greetings to the God Child. We shall obey. Ask._

"Dear Mithros, Daine, you don't know what you've done." Numair breathed. Daine didn't answer. He struggled for words, trying to think of a way to make her understand how terrible, how horrifying, blood invocations were.

"Yell at me later." She said, her voice tired as she misinterpreted his expression. Before he could think of an answer, she ran out of the room. He heard the door click behind her, and she was gone. He sat back down at the table with a groan and rested his head in his hands.

"Does she know what she just did?" He asked the air. The book answered in a rustle of pages. Numair stared at it in disbelief as words appeared.  
 _  
Far more than you think she does, but far less than she should._

"How could you possibly know that? You're nothing but ink and paper!" __

_Blood speaks. It tells secrets. This knowledge is covered by many Mage Journals and does not need to be reiterated. The God Child has precious blood, but not this knowledge._

"But, why blood?"

_The magic of the barriers is the magic of the Gods. It is for them to protect. The knowledge is only given to the deserving._

_Mortal use requires dedication. It requires faith. It requires strength._

_And it demands sacrifice._

Numair shut the book and held the cover down with one hand. "I will not discuss this with you." He snapped at it. "I can disassemble you with a single spell, and don't think I won't. Oh Goddess!" He cursed and threw the book across the room. "I'm talking to a _book!"_


	17. Chapter 17

"Why am I talking to a book?" Echo asked coldly. Daniel shrugged uncomfortably.

"You have the gift. It's a magical book. Maybe it will talk to you?"

"I doubt it." Echo handed him the book back. "I'm a healer, not anything special. That book is old, old magic. I couldn't talk to it when it was mine, and I can't talk to it now. It's keyed to you and Katy, and nothing can break that. But people might try...keep it hidden, even from other mages."

Daniel nodded silently and tucked the book inside the rucksack his old teacher had found, alongside the packets of crisps, spare shirt and, most worrying, tiny switchblade she had given him. Katy was quietly re-packing her own bag on the other side of the lounge, folding each set of clothes neatly before putting them back inside. To his horror, Daniel spotted her taking her own penknife out of the pocket of a pair of jeans and hiding it in her own pocket. She caught his expression and scowled.

"You didn't think I was going to one of their filthy prisons without it, did you?" She snapped, zipping up the bag and swinging it onto her shoulder. Daniel bit his lip.

"But you have the gift," He started. "Couldn't you just..."

"No." She said shortly. Echo came back into the room with her own bag, searching through it rapidly. She didn't look at all surprised to see that Katy was armed. She took her keys out of her pocket and pretended to search for the house key.

"Daniel, you need to get it out of your head that the Gifted can do anything they want with their magic. Even when magic was common, it was still rare for mages to be that powerful. The gift can usually only do one thing, like healing or casting fire. Although most Gifted are too scared to find out what their Gift actually is. Think of us as people with a talent, rather than people who are powerful. Because we're not. And the people we're going to see have no patience for those kind of assumptions."

Without waiting for an answer, she unlocked the front door and stepped out. The evening light poured into the hallway, weak enough to shade a person's face, strong enough to see in. She checked the hallway and nodded once, gesturing for the two teenagers to follow her.

They crept down the corridor in silence, flinching at every creak from the surrounding flats. Even worse was getting out into the parking lot, expecting every car that passed to drive in and expose their fugitive faces with bright neon eyes. There was a collective sigh of relief when they had piled into Echo's car and locked the doors.

"This is stupid." Katy said flatly. "We don't need to sneak around like this."

Echo didn't answer, but turned on the engine. The car crunched through the crumbling tarmac as she reversed it rapidly out of the garage. It wasn't until the car was cruising down the road that she began to speak again.

"You're murderers, remember? Although if I were you, I'd keep that to yourselves. Even mages have morals." She smiled slightly, her eyes on the road. Small drops of rain began to fall onto the windshield. "The people that I'm taking you to don't need to know what happened. Just tell them the Sorrocks are after you for having contraband books.

They're all in the same boat, and they'll look after you as long as they don't think it's dangerous. If they know you're murderers with an antique magic book things might get a little... tense."

Katy glanced back at Daniel, but bit her lip rather than argue with their teacher's description. Echo was only saying what everyone else in the world was going to think, after all. She just...

"...you didn't have to say that." Katy whispered. Echo shrugged and flicked on the windscreen wipers, obviously not bothered enough to argue the point. The rain began to hiss down more persistently, an oddly soothing percussion. Katy leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes wearily.

Daniel stared out of his own window, trying to work out where they were going. Echo had been deliberately vague when she outlined the idea, not sparing her breath on any pointless description. For some reason, he found it moronically funny that she spoke about her own life with the same measured cynicism she described ancient legends. Now the weather seemed to be copying her secrecy, masking the world in the darkness of clouds and water that even the streetlights couldn't fully break.

"Once we get to...wherever we're going..." he started. Echo glanced back rapidly, and then directed her raptor gaze back to the windscreen.

"I fully intend to leave you there, and wash my hands of your probable demise." She offered coldly. "Is that what you wanted to know?"

Daniel stared at the bag he had clutched in his lap. "I don't really know what I was going to ask." He stared out of the window again, barely caring if he was speaking out loud or not. "I just wanted to know what was going to happen next. I've never... not... known."

"Poor little boy." Miss Jenson looked briefly at him in the rear-view mirror, "Welcome to life in the real world."

"You could be more sensitive!" He said hotly. "Just because I don't have the Gift, you act like I'm a spoiled brat!"

"You are." Her voice was flat, almost impersonal. "If it makes you feel any better, you're the only one of us who has any chance at all of a normal life after this. They might not even know you're involved, but they know Katy destroyed Sorrocks this morning, and I've been suspect for years. What is there stopping you from turning everyone in to save your own skin?"

"His sister has the Gift." Katy said sleepily. A slow smile spread across Echo's face as she indicated and made a sharp turn. The hiss of tires on wet tarmac turned to the dull splashing of mud and wet leaves.

"How beautifully ironic." The smile didn't fade. "I thought there must be some selfish reason beyond the mere manuscript larceny. Ah!" She cried artificially, cutting across Daniel's answer. "We're here!"

'Here' turned out to be a small, run-down shed in the middle of nowhere. Felled trees rotted around it, half-buried in the slough of leaves and mud. The shed couldn't have been more than ten feet square. By the looks of it, it had been a field-stable whose owners or inhabitants had long since died.

"What a shit-hole." Daniel said loudly, grateful for an excuse to curse. The source of his anger scowled at him.

"If you don't want to be treated like a spoiled brat..." She started. Daniel rolled his eyes and walked towards the building. "Hey, not that way!"

Katy climbed out of the car, rubbed her eyes and checked her bag before shutting the door. Without hesitation, she headed towards one of the rotting trees. Before she reached them, the air began to glitter oddly. Daniel blinked, unsure if it was just the raindrops shining

in the headlights from the car... but the car was completely dead. He rubbed his eyes and looked again.

Katy stood by the tree stump, surrounded by the lights. She looked around at them, chewing her lip, and then held up a hand. One of the lights immediately leapt into her hand. As soon as she touched it, she vanished.

"Well done!" Echo said approvingly. "She likes working things out for herself, that girl."

"Where did she go?" Daniel croaked. "She just disappeared!"

"Only one way to find out!" She stepped forward and clapped one of the flecks of light between her two hands, disappearing as abruptly as Katy had. Daniel was left alone in an increasingly soggy clearing.

"What the hell is your problem?" He yelled at the sky. Cold rain dripped uncomfortably down his neck, but no invisible voices answered him. Tentatively, he reached out and poked one of the shining raindrops with a fingertip.

The clearing didn't waver, or fade, or even descend into darkness. One moment he was standing in the rain, the next he was standing in a warm room, one finger still ridiculously extended. He forced himself not to think of words like "impossible," and instead took the chance to look around.

They were in an incredibly old-fashioned looking room. Books lined the walls, reaching up to the ceilings. A massive fireplace filled the room with heat and flickering lights, but left velvet shadows in every corner. Antiquated furniture was scattered about the room, and with equal randomness a group of people scattered among it. Something seemed odd... there was no hiss of rain or washed light.

Katy was standing nearby, as obviously curious as he was. Miss Jenson nodded a greeting to a few of the people around her, but waited for the two teenagers to speak. For some reason, she was suddenly completely dry. Daniel and Katy both stripped off their wet jackets with grimaces as they began to steam in the heat.

"There are no windows." Daniel said aloud. A few people glanced up from their conversations, and then looked away without interest.

"It's a basement." Echo said, seeming a lot more relaxed now she was among mages. "Everything in here survived the Sorrock witch hunts."

Daniel looked around, his mouth open. "Then all these books...?"

"Are magical, yes." Echo stretched her arms towards the ceiling. "Are a part of history! It's a wonderful, wonderful basement!"

"A basement. With a fireplace." He deadpanned. Echo dropped her arms and returned to her expression of mild sarcasm.

"We've had a long time to get comfortable, Mister Kitwake. This is a sanctuary for magic- whether it's books or relics or weapons or even people."

"Will we be safe here?" Daniel demanded. She shrugged.

"They let us in," Katy offered. "That was a security spell, right?"

"Correct, young lady!" A robust voice boomed enigmatically. Katy jumped and spun around. The speaker pulled what he probably thought was a reassuring face and sat down on the nearest comfortable sofa. He nearly filled it. "It was a selective transport spell. It brings my visitors twenty feet straight down into my parlour." He winked at her, "But only if I tell it to. Only way in, don't you know!"

"...oh." Said Katy. Echo sighed and sat delicately in an opposite chair.

"Was that really necessary?" She sniped. The man opened his eyes wide, as if he was shocked by the very idea.

"Why, the lovely Mademoiselle Jenson doesn't like the way I greet my guests!" He declared. "I do believe I should take a page out of her book and respond with some sort of

cutting remark, but I'm simply too kind. Hmmm..." He squinted at her, and then peered at the other two. "Why is it that you're both wet?"

"It's raining." Katy seemed to have got her voice back. The man looked up with an expression of surprise.

"It's raining outside." Daniel said sharply. "Stop playing around!"

"It's been known to rain indoors." The man said mildly. "Some of the collection is a bit capricious."

"Daniel, Katy, this is Oscar Watersman." Echo said. "He owns the Sanctuary. I suppose if you're determined to think of this as a secret society, then you should think of him as the leader. And he's really just trying to put you at your ease. The rest of the time he can be a complete..."

"You look very tired." Watersman shot Echo a warning look. "I'm sure any other introductions can wait until morning."

Echo started whispering furiously to Watersman the moment they began walking in the direction he'd indicated. The man seemed to have dropped his affable demeanour as soon as their backs were turned, leaning forward on his hands and listening intently. The last thing Daniel saw before he left the library was Oscar, hulking impossibly large in the shadows from the firelight, watching him with yellow light flickering in his narrowed eyes.


	18. Chapter 18

Daniel couldn't sleep. His legs ached, his arms felt like lead, and the mattress was just soft enough to sink into... but his mind nagged him every time he felt himself sinking into oblivion. Every thought, every reservation, every fear of the day screamed at him. A new thought rose for every three he dismissed. The darkness, instead of being soothing, was filled with phantoms- Leanne, Katy, a car torn open like paper with one arm visible, crushed under the wreckage...

His mind rebelled. Bile filled his mouth. He made it to the basin before he was sick, the bitterness burning his throat. This...everything... was horrible, and it wasn't fair! What did the book possibly think he could do about any of this? He sent a silent prayer to gods he had never believed in- make it stop!

He scooped a handful of water into his mouth, staring at his white face in the ornate mirror above the sink. That was another thing that was nagging at him- this sanctuary. It was too large, too rich, too...convenient. He found it hard to believe that the Sorrocks didn't know it existed- if they could detect small uses of magic, then surely they could detect guarding spells?

"Who knows they're here?" the soft voice echoed Daniel's thoughts so perfectly that for a moment he thought he had imagined it. A shadow blocked the thin bar of light outside of his door; he heard the lock click softly.

"Just me," a second speaker replied. Daniel recognised the voice, although Echo had lost her usual sarcastic edge. "They have the book the Sorrocks are looking for. It's awake!" Her voice rose slightly at this, prompting a hushing from the first speaker. Daniel crept to the door and looked through the keyhole as Echo laughed.

"Don't ssh me, Oscar! I put a slow-sleep on them when I was driving here. They'll have passed out by now! I'm not stupid!"

"No, you're just loud." The massive bulk of Oscar Watersman shifted slightly, conveniently giving Daniel a better view of his face. "There are other guests here besides your children, you know."

Echo made a dismissive gesture. "They're not important. Not now we've found the new keepers. The Sorrocks will be pleased, and they'll stop the random searches... and the Immortals will be trapped behind the barrier again."

There was silence for a moment. Daniel jammed his knuckles into his mouth to stop himself from shouting through the door.

"I think it's different, this time." Oscar said eventually. "The book wasn't awake when it chose us. We only knew we were chosen because our parents told us so- told us the secret. I don't think we were ever really bound to the book like these two are. They were found by... by luck."

"It doesn't make any difference." The woman snapped, "They're both clever enough to be able to see clearly. One is gifted, one is not. One is male, one is female. One can question and one can dream. They weren't told to do it by the Sorrocks, they did it by

themselves. There's no way the Sorrocks can break the contract over them. We can just say we trained them, if you like."

"But they're not protecting the bloodline, they're protecting the book!" Oscar ran his hands through his hair and began walking down the hallway, his voice fading as he got further away. "They don't understand the purpose of the Sanctuary, and they won't understand the contract. Gods damn it, they've got morals!"

Daniel found himself digging through his rucksack for the book even before Oscar had turned away.

One can question, one can dream? Right, he thought grimly. I've got some damned questions!

It was difficult forcing his voice to a whisper- he wanted to yell. If he had a pen he'd have been carving the questions into the pages. He settled for a furious hiss.

"What is the contract you have with the Sorrocks, book?" __

 _It's not our contract! _If ever a book could sound offended, this one did. _The Sorrocks established it when they stole us. What do you think we showed you that for? Didn't you bother doing any research?_

"I was too busy saving Katy's life!" Daniel realised his voice was loud already and lowered it. The book's pages rustled against each other.

_We saved her life. You're welcome, by the way. If it weren't for us you'd be under a sleep spell._

"Tell me about the contract the Sorrocks have without any witty comments, or I'll tear them out of each page!" __

_Alright, alright, you want us to sound like a book? Fine._

_ The Contract With the Sorrocks: Chapter One _

_Once upon a time there was a man called Sorr. He invented a way to get cheap electricity from Mages. The only problem was that the process killed them. This was good in one way, because it meant their families never found out how they were treated... but it meant he had to keep finding fresh supplies. There are only so many beggars in the world._

Daniel's lip curled in distaste. "Fresh supplies? Stop talking like that!" __

_This is our story! Don't interrupt!_

_ Chapter Two _

_The man called Sorr thought about this problem for a long time. While he thought about it, his electricity machine became more and more successful. The government adopted it and began negotiations with Carthak and Scanra, to market the product to them. Sorr became very rich and very powerful. He decided that he could use his political connections to an advantage. He began the movement of Sorrocks, which gradually conditioned society to reject those with the Gift. The Sorrocks were fearsomely efficient. No-one was safe from the machine- although, of course, the actual process of the machine was still a closely guarded secret._

_ Chapter Three _

_Now, as you probably don't know, the Gift is hereditary. Sorr had created laws that meant children could be arrested for having the gift, meaning less and less Gifted people lived to adulthood. Consequently, less and less Gifted were born. Sorr could see his empire falling, and invented a way to prevent the supply from running out, while still maintaining the total control he had established._

_ Chapter Four _

_There were several groups of resistance- as you'll find in any dictatorial society. They consisted of Mages who were too strong or too wiley to have been captured, and sympathisers. One of the groups was headed by one of Sarah's brothers- probably the only person who had worked out what was actually going on. After she died, we called to him... we let him dream. And no-one believed him. Sorr knew this, and tracked him down. He offered him the book in exchange for the contract._

_Stephen, unfortunately, did not have the courage or the intelligence to refuse. He saw the contract as a bribe to keep quiet- safety in return for silence. This was the first term._

_The second term of the contract was that Stephen, and the gifted of his group, were responsible for finding the stronger mages who were hiding among the ungifted. They were given jobs where they would have influence- teachers, priests, nurses and so on. They were given training, and positions from which they could watch people without creating suspicion._

_People with a strong gift were to be brought to a Sanctuary. They in turn could be trained to search for Gifted, and become pawns of the Sorrocks- without ever realising that they were working for them. They thought- and probably still think- that they're protecting a dying race. The thought of being spies never occurred to them. The capture of their weaker children was seen as one of the necessary sacrifices of rebellion- there will always be deaths in a war._

Daniel felt the book slide from his hands onto the thick carpet, where it made a muffled thud. His head was spinning. Dimly, he was aware that writing was still flowing across one of the pages.

"I don't want to know any more." He whispered. "I'm only eighteen. I should be at home, drinking beer and pretending to do my homework." His traitor hand picked up the book of its own accord and straightened out the page. A scrawled statement had appeared at the top of the page, once again in a different hand to the main writer.

_ONLY eighteen?_

_Does being young stop you from caring?_

_Stop complaining!_

"I'm not... I don't..." Daniel felt himself, once again, feeling deeply shamed by a book. He remembered the disparaging comments the book had written about Stephen, and wondered if he had dreamed similar conversations when he was chosen by it. Without realising it, he asked this out loud. The book replied slowly, apologetically.

_We try not to judge people. He did what he believed to be right. Maybe doing nothing would have been worse. It's just... not what we would have done._

_And he needed the book back. It could NOT stay in the hands of the Sorrocks. You must make sure it never falls into their hands again! You saw what Sorr was capable of making once he understood the smallest part of the spell that creates us- imagine how much worse things could get if it happened again!_

"You're a spell?"

_A composite. That question is both irrelevant and useless. It would take weeks to explain the rudimentary principles of our foundation to you, and we believe there are only days left._

Daniel ignored the jibe- something he felt he developing a talent for- and tried to think of a useful question. 'What should I do now?' seemed a bit pathetic.

"The pictures... the dreams you showed us before." He started hesitantly.

_We hoped to make you understand. If you know how and why something began, then you should know how to make it end. But... now there is no time. The Book was created with magic, and with love, and with blood. You will need all three to help us, just as you will need all three to destroy the Sorrocks. We believe that both your battles are linked._

"WHAT?" Daniel yelled, "I can't destroy the..." He realised how loud his voice was and clapped a hand over his mouth, feeling his skin turning cold as running footsteps sounded outside.

 _Oops..._ the book managed to get in the last word before it snapped itself shut. Shaking, Daniel stowed it away in his rucksack and dove into bed, hearing the lock snick open as he closed his eyes. The door opened, sending a bright flood of light into the room.

"What's..." began Oscar.

"AAAAAAAAARRGGGHHH!" Daniel yelled at the top of his voice, sitting bolt upright and staring at the man in terror. Oscar actually took a step back before recovering himself.

"What the hell is going on?" He bellowed. Daniel stared wild-eyed around the room, breathing heavily.

"Where did they GO? They're not still here, are they?!" He exclaimed almost as loudly.

"Who? What? Answer me!"

"The... the... the elephants!" Daniel made a show of checking under the bed. "Gods, they were everywhere! They were trying to...to... to eat me!"

Oscar relaxed, half a smile appearing on his face. "You were having a dream, kid. Aren't you a little old to be having nightmares?"

"S...sorry sir." Daniel said, the shakiness in his voice genuine. "I hope I didn't wake you up."

"No. I'm surprised you woke up, though. You were...pretty tired." Oscar glanced out of the door, suspicion clear in his eyes. "Go back to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"'Night, sir." Daniel waited until he was out of the room, and the collapsed into the pillows. He whistled softly and glanced at the rucksack. "Goodnight, Book."

He dreamed of light.


	19. Chapter 19

In fact, Daine knew much more about blood spells than anyone thought. The weeks of being shut up- before she'd discovered her new hobby- had been gratingly tedious. She'd asked to help Lindhall with cataloguing the books, but he politely turned her down- by the time he explained the system, he said, it would have been quicker to just do it himself. The army of expressionless clerks had stared at her as she forced herself to smile and agree. Kitten chirped a greeting from behind a pile of books, but didn't make a move towards her guardian. It wasn't until Daine was outside the door that she heard the light, intense chatter of librarians begin again. She leaned her head against the cool stone wall, and wondered if they were talking about the Spidren's prediction. If the thrill in their voices was more than interest. Was it fear that they would somehow be tainted by association?

She wondered if it had occurred to any of them to comment that, if the immortals did take over, it would be partly her fault.

She shook herself out of it. Her fault? She must have been inside too long- feeling sorry for herself like that! And if she wanted to be useful, well, she'd just have to find something to occupy her own time, rather than asking other people for chores!

She looked up- the library. Books. Apart from her, the vast room was empty- all the clerks were shut up with Lindhall in the next room. She rubbed her hands together slowly and walked forward, into the middle of the room. Books.

"I bet I can work this out before anyone else," She muttered, looking for the labels on the shelves that said the books were about magic. "After all, it's about me!"

What had Numair said? Ah yes. _All the spells that require a particular person's blood are very dark magic. If that's what the Spidren meant then he must be deliberately baiting you. Every kind of spell that needs your blood will hurt you in some way._

Well, that seemed like a good place to start. If she knew the Immortals the way she thought she did, they would love the idea of dark magic. She idly wondered if the odd silver magic the Spidren could cast was capable of that kind of magic, and then remembered that the darkings had been made with Ozorne's blood. But he had been human first...

 _That's what I need to find out, then._ She thought, running her fingers along the spines of the books. She wouldn't put it past Ozorne to have left some nasty trick behind him, and if that was all it was...

Her mind teeming with questions, her boredom forgotten, Daine lost herself in books of magic. It took weeks to find the information she'd been looking for, and even then it was incomplete. Normal books didn't talk about dark magic, spell books only mentioned it in passing, and the dark magic books were locked away. She didn't dare ask for the key, feeling instinctively that the only help such books could give was how to create harmful spells, not stop them.

Numair didn't ask what she was doing- he was entirely wrapped up in his own research, and she decided it was best not to tell him. She returned to their rooms every night with her head aching and words scrolling before her eyes, wondering how anyone could read for so long without going mad. And then she realised Numair was working through the night as well, falling asleep at the table rather than break his concentration with anything as trivial as food or sleep. When she did make him eat, he would spend the meal explaining his latest

theory, and then go straight back to work. If she was making herself ill, he must be killing himself.

 _Right._ She thought, determination apparent in her eyes, _This has gone on for long enough._

At first she thought she'd be able to steal the book when he was asleep, but that was obviously not going to work- he fell asleep reading it, held on to it constantly, and was pretty much obsessed with it. If he had to leave the room- when Lindhall asked for his advice, or if he actually decided to find something to eat- he took the book with him in case he suddenly thought of a new way to interpret it. So she simply confronted him about it, and used the simplest blood spell she could remember. She hadn't expected him to be as angry as he was- she hadn't really expected the spell to work. Maybe she'd simply wanted to remind him that she existed.

And now he was angry- angrier than she had ever seen him- and she decided it was best to stay away from him. If he wanted to find her, he could always look. It'd do him good to walk around.

In the meantime, she decided she might as well find something else to do. It had taken one look across the courtyard to work out that Alanna had been told- and was just as furious, furious enough to interrupt her own militaristic planning to walk down to the stables and yell at Daine. The girl hid behind the stable door until she was sure she wouldn't have to explain, talking silently to Cloud in her mind as she did so. The pony was as eager as Daine to get away for a while- the Rider ponies seemed more annoying when she had to spend all her time with them.

Within half an hour they had ridden out of the castle, and back into the forest. Daine strung her bow, smiling contently as the People greeted her, and started hunting Immortals. Her mind seethed- mainly anger at her friends for not understanding, for thinking she would do something so dangerous without thinking. She said as much to Cloud.

 _You stopped your own heart once._ Cloud said passively, _And, remember, they made you break that spell in Dunlath without telling you about the trap, because they knew you wouldn't think about it._

"That was years ago!" Daine snapped, "You'd think they'd give me some credit for thinking about things once in a while."

Cloud snapped at a strand of longrass and said nothing. Daine sighed and scratched the pony's ears.

"You're right. Maybe I should have explained more to him before I did it. But... he hasn't been listening to me lately. He just talks to that book- spells, communication stuff. And I can't tell him... I did think about it, a lot, before I did it. Those spells are horrible, Cloud! Once a spell has your blood, it becomes a part of you. If someone breaks a part of the spell, it could hurt me... or the other way around."

"And the spells can use that. For all I know, each page of that book could be being written in my own blood, and there's nothing I could do to stop that. And whatever spells it's protecting... if it's protecting the barrier, then it might have made me a part of the barrier. And the spell can grow, and evolve, and even think, because it can use my mind."

Cloud stopped and strained her neck, trying to look around. _Why did you do it, then?_

Daine rested her chin on one hand and leant over so she could talk more quietly. She didn't want to mind-speak, it felt good to be able to speak out loud.

"Because... I was frightened. The Spidren said something about blood, and the more I read, the more scared I was that the Immortals have some sort of Blood-Spell on me. I couldn't fight that. Numair might be able to, but he was wrapped up in the book. He said it was linked to what the Spidren said, but he didn't know how. I decided the only way to be sure was to test it. And...it worked." She finished abruptly and sat up straight. "I knew that if I was right, then it would be the only thing that worked. And Numair told me he'd never let me try anything like that. And now he's angry. Let's go."  
 _  
Where to? You're not running away?_

Daine laughed shortly. "No. Just deeper into the forest. I left him a letter, and I want to stay out of earshot until I'm sure he's read it. I'm fair certain he'll shout a lot. We'll go back when it gets dark, okay?"  
 _  
If you're sure._ Cloud turned slightly and headed down a clearer path. _Blueberry said the Riders hunted hurrocks near here. There was a nest._

"Good." Daine checked her bowstring. "Let's go and be useful, shall we?"

The bitter smell of hurrocks drifted to the trail before they could be seen- a sour mixture of sweat and fear and dried blood. These were evidently the survivors from the Rider attack. Rather than run away and find a hiding place to heal, they'd returned to the corpses of their pack and now stood around them, heads bowed, wings folded, reddish eyes almost sorrowful. Daine paused, wondering whether they would just leave peacefully now their family was gone. Then she saw the few human bodies that lay under the dead creatures, where a hasty raiding party wouldn't have had time to recover them. The hurrocks had walked over them, deliberately tearing apart their faces with their predator claws. These were killers.

Cloud shifted her weight and snapped a twig, and the heads snapped upright. Eyes glinted, sharp teeth gleamed as the remaining creatures looked towards the intruders. Daine looked back just as intently, counting the odds.

 _Six of them, but four are hurt._ She said to Cloud coldly. _Think we can do it?_

 _Is the Chief Priest Mithrosian?_ The pony replied. Daine smiled and sighted along her arrow.

The hiss of the bowstring was loud in the clearing. The hurrocks jumped at the sudden noise and sprang forward as one, stumbling slightly over the corpses. One started backwards, snarling as the arrow hit it in the throat, and tottered sideways for a few steps until it fell.

"Now, Cloud!" Daine cried, shifting her balance so that the pony could start galloping away. They had a head start and the clearest path, but it was still going to be a desperate race- the hurrocks crashed through the bracken and trees as if they were nothing, swerving around the largest trees. They didn't try to fly- the trees were too close for them to unfurl their leathery wings- and instead ran clumsily on their clawed feet.

Daine leaned around and shot the one that was directly behind them, taking a few extra precious seconds of aiming to make sure it stayed down. As soon as it fell, she looked around at the other four. Three were keeping up easily, but were half-hidden behind the undergrowth and trees on either side. She couldn't see the fourth. From what she had seen, it had been limping in the clearing. Maybe it had stayed behind.

"Go left." She said to Cloud, ignoring the screams of outrage on either side of them. "Head for Lister Pass."

The pony huffed and altered her gait slightly, swerving at the first clear gap on the left they got to. Daine shot at the hurrock on that side and missed. She cursed and drew another arrow out of the quiver, aiming more carefully this time before she released the shot. This time it stumbled and fell, raising a small pile of leaves from the forest floor. The remaining two dodged its body expertly and charged along the wider path, flanking Daine and Cloud on both sides and lunging at them, biting and trying to claw them and run at the same time. The one on the left dropped back when Daine slashed it with an arrowhead, and then unfolded its wings with an audible crack. Cloud dodged away from the hurrock on her right, giving Daine the extra space she needed to shoot it. They skidded to a halt as the creature snarled its death cry.

 _Don't let the other one get above us;_ Cloud said anxiously, her breath coming in heavy gulps. _If it gets above us, it's got claws on all four hooves._

"I know!" Daine aimed at it as it launched itself from the ground. There was an explosion of sound as another hurrock- the one who had been limping- crashed through the treetops behind them.

 _Any bright ideas?_ Cloud hinted, _Sooner would be better._

"Helpful." Daine muttered, shooting the first one and spinning to the second one without seeing if the first had even been hit. She was hoping that the threat of the arrows would make them wary about attacking her, but they seemed insanely furious. She shot the second one through the wing as quickly as she could, and turned back to the first.  
 _  
You're running out of arrows._ Cloud whinnied shrilly and snapped her teeth at the hurrock nearest her. It barely blinked. It flapped painfully to the ground, its wing bleeding, and then hissed as it landed on its twisted foot. It stumbled- only a few feet forward, but enough for the pony to swing around and kick it hard in the head. There was a crack as its skull broke. It swayed, stunned, as Daine killed the other one and spun around. She blinked as the hurrock fell over, twitching.

"Well done, Cloud," She said, "That was very nearly going wrong."

 _I saved your hide._ The pony said smugly, and flicked her tail. _Start thanking me._

"Thank you." Daine stopped her voice from shaking. She drew her dagger and cut the hurrock's throat, letting it die quickly. The copper tang of the blood made her feel odd. She drew her hand away, staring at the drops on her fingers. "Cloud... what did we just do?"

 _Don't start feeling guilty. The Riders would have done the same thing, if they weren't all a bunch of untrained ninnies. Especially Blueberry. Some of the spring foals are pathetic._ Cloud pulled up a mouthful of grass and chewed hungrily. _They didn't finish the job so we did. Being helpful, remember?_

"Yes, I..." Daine wiped her hand on the grass, but the stain wouldn't come off. She felt suddenly, violently ill. The smell of blood and sweat mingled with the sticky sweet smell of leaf mould and damp until she couldn't bear it any more. Her stomach heaved and she was sick.

 _Are you alright?_ The concern in the pony's voice was apparent. Daine shrugged and stood up, rubbing her forehead.

"I don't know. It's just... I was angry, so angry that all I wanted to do was hurt something. But they weren't hurting me," the hurrock bodies on the ground were accusingly silent. Daine wiped her mouth with a shaking hand. Cloud walked up to her and poked her with her nose.

_Stop it. You're tired and upset, and you're thinking like an idiot. You spent too long indoors. You know they were killers. They attacked the merchant train, and they killed some of the Riders. It's not worth being sick over!_

"I suppose," Daine said dubiously, letting Cloud bully her into turning around and starting to head home. They both walked, Cloud being too worn out and grouchy to even speak for most of the way, let alone carry anyone.

Daine walked in silence, wrapped in her own thoughts. She didn't tell Cloud she still felt ill.

They got back to the keep slightly before the sun set. Daine brushed Cloud down, gave her an extra large portion of feed, and kissed her on the nose in silence. Then she walked up the flights of stairs to her room, wishing the staircases would go on forever, that she could walk in the pink sunset light without having to speak to anyone for the rest of her life.

The door was open. She walked through still wrapped in her silent shield, her head lowered, not looking up. She heard footsteps, and suddenly was safe in Numair's arms. He hugged her tightly.

"I'm so sorry," He whispered raggedly, and nothing else needed to be said. Daine rested her head against his chest and finally let herself cry.


	20. Chapter 20

Breakfast was awkwardly silent. The throngs of people who had filled the large room so easily the night before had vanished, back to their homes and jobs without needing to say goodbye. The table, designed to seat nearly a hundred people, stretched eternally into the space as the two teenagers and their hosts sat at one end. Everything looked clean and polished, from the thick carpet underfoot to the polished silver that held fruit, cereal, toast, and every other food one could possibly want for breakfast. The room was still dark- without windows, it was impossible to tell night from day, and Oscar apparently enjoyed the flickering candlelight that made Daniel's head ache.

Oscar attempted to make light conversation to Katy, who pushed her food miserably around her plate and made only cursory replies. Echo's sarcastic responses to his jokes made each silence longer as he glared at her, and he didn't even try to speak to Daniel. The expression on the boy's face was enough to curdle milk, let alone witty repartee. Oscar studied him from the corner of his eyes, as if waiting for him to speak.

There was silence.

The food grew cold on the table. Katy pushed her plate away and made as if to stand up.

"I know everything." Daniel announced, stopping her.

Echo nearly choked on her porridge. Katy looked up, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion. Oscar smiled slightly.

"No need to make such a 'big deal' out if it, as I believe is the expression. You have a natural immunity to sleeping spells, and we unwisely decided to talk outside your door. I imagine you also spent all the time you weren't making up stories about pachyderms to speculate on the very little you heard, which would explain why you look so tired this morning. It's simple." He turned back to his bacon industriously.

"I don't understand," Katy said loudly, "What does he know?"

"Oscar's right." Daniel explained politely, reaching for the sugar pot and scooping four lumps into his coffee. "I overheard it all."

Oscar smirked and chewed noisily. Daniel leaned back comfortably and cradled his drink between his hands.

"Apart from the part about the contract, and the book, and Sarah and Stephen and Sorr and lots of other things starting with S, beginning with 'sorry state of affairs' and ending in 'steaming pile of...'"

"Daniel!" Echo cut in, her eyes wide, "I'm sure there's no need to swear, whatever you think you may have heard..."

"Don't look innocent, Miss Jenson." Daniel took another sip of coffee and sighed happily as sugar and caffeine woke him up slightly. "It doesn't suit you. You've sent thousands of people to their deaths. At least have the courtesy to look like an evil, scheming..."

"Stop it! Why are you saying that?" Katy stood up and clapped her hands over her ears, "Daniel, I don't know what you're talking about, but if you don't stop I'll... I'll... I'll witch you from here to Scanra!"

Daniel stared at her, his eyes expressionless. "Aren't you a healer?"

Oscar laughed loudly and put down his knife and fork, lining them up neatly in the middle of his plate. The polished table reflected his finger nails as he drummed them against the wood. Echo stared at him, and visibly forced herself to relax too. Daniel's outburst had obviously cut her deeply- her skin was the transparent pallor of cold wax.

"So you know. So what? You had to find out eventually. Telling us doesn't achieve anything, since we are already aware of the contract! If you and dear Katy wish to retire to the sitting room, you could even tell her about exactly what it is you know."

"I'm not 'dear' anything!" Katy said, going red. She glared at Oscar, and then spun around and scowled at Daniel. "And you! Tell me what's going on!"

Daniel didn't look at her. He fixed Echo in his gaze and spoke softly, as if she were a frightened child. "It's alright. I understand. You did what you had to do. Because of you, some lived who would have died. Some died who would have lived, but hey! Who's counting?" He stood up, the chair grating noisily against the table. "I can't believe I trusted you, Miss Jenson." He said bitterly, and strode towards the door. Katy looked from face to face, and silently followed him.

Echo bit her lip as the two teenagers left the room. Oscar glared at her, his pleasant expression disappearing. "If you cry, I will personally see to it that your family is arrested for being such a...load of snivelling ninnies!" His own face turned slightly red. "How on earth did you expect him to react?"

"It's how I reacted, when I found out." Echo said weakly, "Almost word for word what I spat in my mother's face. I swore I'd never be like her. And here I am, just as bad, just as much a villain." She rested her head against the tabletop and looked at her reflection. Oscar sighed and sat down next to her, stroking her hair soothingly.

"This is not the time for memories, my dear friend." His voice was quiet. "We must be strong. Always, we must be strong."

Echo sat up straight, shaking off his hand and her tears. "How could I forget? We must be loyal and we must be strong, and that's all we've ever been."

In the next room, Daniel was rapidly explaining what he had overheard the night before. When he got to the book's comments, he simply handed her the volume open at the right page. To his surprise, the text hadn't faded away... although he had to explain his half of the conversation. Katy smiled slightly at the book's annoyed comments, but her expression darkened as she read on.

"Magic, love and blood?" She repeated after she'd read it, "What does it mean by that? It sounds like the title of a really bad song. And what are we going to do?"

"I don't know what to do about the book, but about the mages... I have an idea." Daniel said slowly, "But it'll be dangerous, and I don't even know if it's right. Damn it!" He punched the floor in frustration, and then winced and massaged his hand. "Why does the book have to be so cryptic! It's clear enough when it's insulting me!"

"Well, never mind that. Tell me your idea." Katy demanded, shutting the book and giving it to him to hide again. He slipped it inside his jacket.

"I'm guessing Sorr refined the machine since I saw it," He started, "There's no way he could keep it as it was. It was so inefficient and...final, you know? And there aren't that many gifted people left, even if they are being, um, cultivated in these sanctuaries. So I reckon they must have found a way to keep people alive for longer, and just keep draining their gift, rather than taking it all at once and killing them."

"Makes sense," Katy's voice was noncommittal. She glanced at the door- which they had very firmly locked in case their caring hosts decided to lynch them- and looked back. Daniel's eyes were shut, as if he were struggling with a complicated maths problem.

"So there must be lots of mages in these places, hooked up to machines and so on. No-one really knows they're there, and there's not enough of a resistance for the Sorrocks to bother guarding them too much. I bet if we could get in, we could help some of them."

"An army of mages, just waiting to be freed." Katy breathed. Daniel rolled his eyes and nodded.

"Something like that, just not so...epic." He retorted. "Want to try?"

Katy smiled brilliantly and stood up, her eyes shining and her back straight. "Oh, yes."

"I thought you would." Daniel hesitated, and decided not to tell her his own misgivings. His friend was far too wrapped up in her own world- she always tried to find fantastical solutions for worldly problems, even when she was a child. She never seemed to feel afraid or worried; in her experience, every difficulty had an exciting conclusion, and the good guys always won.

The book had destroyed what remained of Daniel's innocence after the Stormwing, and the Sorrocks, had broken into his peaceful life. It had shown him, cruelly and callously, that the good didn't win- that those with money and power would go further to win than the good ever could. He was afraid that to fight them, they would have to do things they found despicable.

That was why he had decided to talk to Echo and Oscar, rather than trying to run away or fight them. He didn't know why they'd signed the contract, or if they really knew what it meant- but he understood their reasons for keeping the secret.

He'd understood that when he woke up, with one clear thought burning his eyes and filling his mouth with bile. He had clenched his teeth to keep from screaming with the betrayal of it.

The book had known.

The book had known all along what was going to happen to them. It had let it happen. And worse, the Sorrocks had known. They must have known right from the beginning- who he was, his family, the book, Echo- they had known everything. Every action, every tiny thing he had done, must have been planned from the start.

The book had told him so, hadn't it? The Sorrocks protected the families of the Gifted, under the contract. It was part of the deal. And he hadn't even thought about it.

The Sorrocks had known from the start, and the book knew this as well. How else could it have known that Leanne would be safe?


	21. Chapter 21

"It won't talk to me." The book lay on the table between them, innocently silent and blank. The pages had none of the yellowing signs of age normally seen on such tomes- it could have been crafted the previous day. And yet it was old, older than Daine could begin to understand, and it was hardly innocent.

It had been blank since it had been yelled at- not broken, not ciphered, simply absent of information. It refused; the word was human in a way that the book was not, but that was what it seemed to do. If it had been a child it could have been sulking. Daine refused on plain common sense to believe that a book was capable of such a thing, but even she had to admit there was something sullen in the book's silence.

She covered her smile with a hand at Numair's comment, and idly opened the cover. "Did you hurt its feelings? Maybe you should apologise to it!"

"That would serve no academic purpose. It's a book. And it's not funny!" He said, catching sight of her smile. He glanced at the book, which had slammed its own cover shut with petulant violence, and a smile involuntarily played across his own lips. "Well... maybe it is a little amusing." He picked up the book gingerly, as if expecting it to snap at his fingers. "Alright then Book, I'm sorry for throwing you across the room and yelling at you. I hope you can search deep into the depths of your... bibliography... and forgive me."

He jumped as the book spun in his grip, flew from his hand, landed in front of Daine and opened. Instantly, black ink began scrawling across the page.

"It says... 'Don't be sarcastic.'" Daine read. Her mouth twitched again. "I think I'm starting to like this book!"

"Very funny." Numair said drily, shaking his hand. "Tell it that if it doesn't stop messing about, I'll give it something to really sulk about!"

"I think it can hear..." Daine started, and then gave up. "Book, I ordered you to reveal your secrets. My order has not been...um..."

"Revoked." The mage offered.

"Thank you. My order has not been revoked. I want you to tell me..." she hesitated again, wondering if she was doing the right thing. What the book knew might be dangerous: too dangerous for mortals to know, or it might be false, or even deliberately misleading. If only her blood could open it then it might even belong to the Gods- and they punished those who stole their knowledge most severly.

 _It's a bit late for thinking like that,_ she told herself. She wondered fleetingly if Numair had thought of this- if that was the real reason why he had been so averse to her casting the blood spell. She glanced at him uneasily.

He looked back, and for a split second she saw her own fear reflected in the depths of his eyes. But where her emotions were vague and unfounded, his seemed tempered with awareness and certainty; his eyes burned with death and pity and love and fear. He blinked and looked away, and it was gone.

"You hide so much from me," She said quietly. Before he could answer, she looked down at the book and finished the command.

"Book, I want to know about the barrier, and the immortals."

The book had erased the previous sentence and begun writing again, this time neatly and concisely. "It worked!" She began reading out loud: __

_The immortals were created during a period of high ambient magic. There must be balance in all things; the amount of magic in the Mortal Realm was too high. To counter this, the gods created beings that were both magical in themselves, and capable of using the magic around them. This refined and reduced the magic in the realm. The immortals crossed all the realms without hindrance, storing magic in the Mortal Realms and releasing it in their homes in the Realm of the Gods._

_This continued for centuries, while the human race was still young. As each new human was born, the Gods decided whether or not to give them a portion of the ambient magic- this is how it became known as a Gift. Gradually, the amount of magic in the realms became less. The immortals realised this as their own magic, and their dominance of the realms, began to die._

_They believed the mortals were stealing their magic, and therefore decided that the mortals must be removed to restore their power._

_Other immortals remembered that they were created to protect the realms rather than destroy them, and fearing the gods, decided to oppose the ones who sought power._

_This is one of the things that triggered the first war between the realms. The conclusion of that was the creation of the barriers between the realms. This trapped the magic on either side of the barrier, meaning that the Gift could no longer be bestowed, it became a hereditary trait. The ambient magic in the Realm of the Gods, however, was being used by the immortals. It began to decrease._

_This meant that the barrier became imbalanced- the pressure of the magic on one side was much less than that on the other. It started warping and weakening._

"So... what?" Daine asked, looking up from the book, "That's why the Immortals are protecting the barrier?"

"It seems like that." Numair stared blankly at the ceiling, tapping his fingers together absently. "When Ozorne deliberately weakened parts of the barrier, it was already weaker than it had been before. I wondered how he managed it on his own. He didn't seem capable of it..."

"And the second barrier keeps back the Immortals who tried to kill the mages." Daine finished. "So there must be another imbalance between wherever they are, and the Immortal realms. All the allied Immortals are trying to keep the barrier standing, while the ones who don't care are running riot." She rested her head in her hands and sighed. "I don't see why it was such a big secret! It makes my head hurt. Secrets and... plans and plots and...secrets..."

Numair blinked and looked around. Daine's usually clear voice had faded to a murmur as she leaned against the table, clutching her head in her hands. Her knuckles shaded white where she'd knotted her hands into her hair, contrasting with the sudden flush of her face.

"What's wrong?"

Daine heard the panic in his voice, as if from a long way away, and answered him through gritted teeth: "Don't- worry- it'll- go- away-soon." She shut her eyes tighter and willed the nausea to go away, ignoring the darting pain in her head and breathing as steadily as she could.

It wasn't until the darkness filled with copper light that she realised she'd automatically started meditating, and had retreated to her centre. Here, there was no pain, no sickness, just herself and the comforting glow of her magic. She drifted aimlessly for a moment, looking without really seeing, until something odd caught her attention. In the amber glow was a dart of green, almost hidden near the glowing core of light. She frowned and followed it.

The closer she got to it, the smaller it seemed to get, as if it were automatically hiding from her. Rather than chasing it around, she waited for it to stop shrinking away, turning away and looking out of the corner of her eyes.

There! A small thread of dark green, almost black against the copper, clung to the core of light. Tiny dark fibres had broken through the glasslike wall, and were buried in the light, like a root burying itself in soil. Daine wondered if she should try and rip it out, and then decided that was a bad idea- it could be a trap, or a hedge-witch curse, or anything.

And it wasn't like it was doing anything at the moment. It just stayed there, hardly moving in this world of light and motion; its only action had been to hide from her.

Daine mentally shrugged and pulled herself out of the meditation. To her relief, the sickness and headache had nearly gone. She was vaguely aware that Numair was sitting next to her, that his arm was protectively around her, and willed herself once again to defeat whatever sickness the green light had given her. She pushed back the last of the nausea and sighed, knowing the headache was simply her body demanding payment for the mental effort this had taken.

She opened her eyes, and for a confused moment thought she was still meditating. Bright copper and dark green light stretched in front of her eyes for a second. She squinted at it, blinked, and it vanished.

"I think I need to see a healer." She told the air.

"I agree." Said Numair, worry clear in his voice.


	22. Chapter 22

Oscar and Echo looked confused. Daniel smiled emptily at them in the flickering light of passing streetlamps, trying to forget that they were in the back of a Sorrock arrest van. Confusion suited them a lot better than their previous pompous arrogance had; it was most rewarding on the raw-meat flabbiness of Oscar's jowls.

Their superior aspect had melted as soon as the Sorrocks had arrived, changing to a creeping servility that would have been sickening, if Daniel had felt anything other than contempt for them. The Sorrocks had been blank-faced guards, not even bothering to make the standard quips that guards were permitted in such situations. They simply waved the four of them into the back of the van and quietly shut the door behind them. The click of the lock was loud, sharp; Katy flinched as the door was sealed and automatically glanced at Daniel's bag where the book was.

They had scribbled their plan hastily in the back of the book before hiding it and returning to the breakfast room. They didn't know if the book agreed or approved, or if it had noticed that they'd asked it to keep quiet for a while. For all they knew, it could be arguing back by now.

"I still don't understand." Echo said quietly, glancing up at where the red eye of a camera watched them. "The contract is finished. It can't be changed. What on earth do you want to talk to them about?"

"Pension plans." He replied rapidly, letting cold sarcasm run through his voice as thickly as it had previously run in hers, "And possibilities for promotion within the company."

Oscar sank his head into his hands. Sweat ran down his face, as if the five minutes of travel had made him deathly travel sick. "We never talk about the contract. The idea is that, by signing it, we live to see our pension days. Why did you make us come here?"

Katy watched as Daniel's expression became one of dark fury with amazement. She wondered if he was even pretending to be angry any more, or if the rage against Oscar was genuine.

"I want you to see what you've done." There was no pretence in his voice. Just terrifying, inhuman loathing. "I want you to look at the people you've condemned to die. And then I want to ask you why you want it to continue."

"It's the only thing they can do," Katy whispered, wondering where her friend would survive the bitterness that was drowning him. "Look at them- they saw a way to help, a way to protect their families. I don't see you objecting that the Sorrocks are protecting Leanne."

Daniel's eyes snapped around, and for a moment she couldn't breathe at sight of the hatred in them. Then he blinked, and it was gone. He smiled.

The rest of the journey passed in silence. No-one dared to say anything. Katy eventually fell asleep, but Daniel stayed awake, his eyes brightly watchful.

Orange light flickered over the four faces, each illuminated with emotion that was completely alien to them. Katy sighed and shifted slightly in her sleep, unconscious of the slow tear that crept from one eye as she dreamed. Oscar stared stubbornly out of the window, habitual artifice taken over by naked fear that was all too apparent in the dark reflection of the glass.

Echo looked relieved.

The van sped silently through the countryside, leaving the ancient ruins where the Shelter was buried far behind it. They could barely see where they were going- the Sorrocks had insisted on that when they had phoned them to ask for a meeting- but the roads seemed silent and isolated. The tarmac surface was smooth and well maintained under the wheels, not the rough texture of a country motorway- but there seemed to be no towns or villages nearby, no orange glow of lights in the distant sky, simply the van and the streetlights.

No-one was aware of falling asleep, but they must have done. The hiss of the air-conditioning system became slightly louder, and within seconds all four were sleeping.

The doors slammed open; fresh air flooded the back of the van. They rubbed their stinging eyes and stepped out, blinking at the brightness of the floodlit area. The Sorrocks didn't say anything to them, simply pointed in the direction of one of the lights. They squinted at the light, their pupils tiny pinpricks of sleepy pain. Daniel guessed that this unsettling confusion was planned, yet another thing to make them uneasy and nervous before meeting the people they wanted to talk to. From the look of Oscar's face, it was working. Katy and Echo simply looked at him, unconsciously accepting that, in their small group at least, he was in charge.

Daniel took a deep breath, reminded himself that he didn't believe in the concept of "bad guys", and walked confidently in the direction of the light. Green sunspots danced in his eyes like the flashes of the Gift had in the transport spell the night before.

"As far as I'm concerned," he said, not caring that his voice was loud in the cold air, "This is far less disturbing than you lot and your magic spells. They're just lights." He heard Oscar choke back a nervous comment, and smiled. Katy started laughing helplessly.

"Stop that." One of the Sorrocks said flatly. Katy grabbed Daniel's arm, almost choking with laughter.

"It's like... some spy film!" She gulped, "Lights and guards in black! And they're more... more frightened of the Gift! And we were frightened of... of the lights!"

"I said stop laughing!" The guard yelled. Daniel looked at him and started to laugh as well. The whole thing suddenly seemed ridiculous. And the expression on Oscar's cheesy face was wonderful! They clung to each other as they walked, howling with laughter, deaf to the bemused threats on either side.

On cue, the lights clicked off, revealing a tall man silhouetted in the light of the doorway.

"Good evening," He said in a smooth cultured baritone, starting the two teenagers off laughing again. He glanced at them, unfazed. "If you don't stop acting like children, we will treat you as such." He said quietly. "This is a professional corporation, and I'm not employed to negotiate with juvenile delinquents."

Daniel opened his mouth to make a sharp retort, then noticed Katy's face and stopped. They're right, he thought, I am being childish.

So what? His brain replied. This whole thing is just like the games we used to play, when we were children. And that's all it is now. Remember the rhyme? We're going on a bear hunt...

"...I'm not scared," The boy muttered under his breath, and smiled again. He looked up, past the Sorrock silhouette and the lights, and held his breath at the magnitude of the building outlined by the dawn sky.

We're going to catch a big one...

If he had seen it in daylight he might have thought it was an old temple or a palace, with its sweeping arches and noble columns. There was no hint as to what it really was; the only sign of the modern world were the bright searchlights that were fixed clumsily onto the stonework, and strings of cable that were spun from power and communication towers into the center of the place. As his eyes cleared of the green sunspots, he realised that the whole thing was a facade- an artificial antique, made to look like a ruined keep. It reminded him of the sanctuary, in the way it embraced the beauty of the past by hiding the ugliness of the present. It must have been a genuine ruin once, though, the ground under his feet was littered with small chips of marble and granite, which didn't seem local to the marsh-like area.

"If you would step this way." The Sorrock hinted calmly, gesturing through the entrance. The tunnel of the arch ended in a small, practical and very businesslike door, whose many locks were welcomingly unfastened to greet the guests. Daniel suspected they'd be locked once they were in. As he walked through, he felt a slight tickling run across his skin and looked back at the others, wondering if they had felt it too. His jaw dropped. As each of his companions walked through the door, the bright sparkle of the Gift danced across their skin. It stayed there even after they'd crossed the threshold, bathing their skin in eerie light.

"Sorry, we like to see people for what they really are here." The Sorrock smirked. "The Gateway identifies and exposes the Gift. It should fade a few hours after you leave the complex."

Daniel swallowed uneasily, looking at his hands for any traitorous glint of magic. A lazy black spark crept across one palm. He closed his hand on it, panicking.

If they see it, please let them think it's me and not the book. He prayed fervently to any god who might be listening. He glanced quickly at the guards, but they were all watching the Sorrock for further instructions. After the first lone spark, the book didn't seem inclined to make its presence felt. He glanced up at the Sorrock again, and felt the blood drain from his face.

The Sorrock, and the guards that had followed him, all glowed with the sparkle of the gift. Where Echo, Oscar and Katy's gift had looked wild and untamed, theirs glistened with a smoothness across their skin, perfectly ordered and controlled.

The Sorrocks were all mages.


	23. Chapter 23

Daine lay awake that night, unable to sleep, her mind in turmoil. She blinked up at the ceiling in the darkness, almost meditating as she tried to will herself to sleep. She curled up closer to Numair, hoping that she could somehow borrow some of his peace and sleep as easily as he was, but her mind rebelled against the idea of stopping for the night. It ran through everything in its memory of that day, searching each memory for tiny details. Each time she began falling asleep, the memories would become more vivid...

...The healer frowned as he reclaimed his gift, letting the amber fire wash back into his hands. Daine watched his expression, knowing the look too well- it was the way Sarra had looked when she was uneasy about something.

"You don't know what it is, do you?" She asked quietly, realising that he wouldn't feel easy admitting that. Numair had insisted she see one of the best healers in the palace, and although most of them had been dispatched to different places to aid with the war, there were still a few in the palace who had been trained by Duke Baird. Some had yet to fail, to lose a life or diagnose a fatal illness. This one had been the same, supremely confident of his ability to cure all ills, and she hated in a way to disappoint him.

He shook his head, looking confused. "No, I do, but..." he shook his head again as if to dispel vague thoughts, and picked up a sheaf of notes. "It's... different. I don't know how to deal with... blood spells and the like. I'll have to think. I'll have to write to my teacher and ask him some things. It could take a while."

"Then it is the spell that's making me ill?" Daine realised her voice had raised, raw nerves running through it. She flinched at the sound and thought to lower her voice again. The healer had already shushed her angrily when she had greeted him this morning- the healing quarters were full of people wounded in the latest barrage of Immortal attacks. The Gift could only go so far; the ones who were here were resting, along with the healers who had treated them. The healer hadn't seemed to notice the noise this time, he was shaking his head again.

"I'll try to explain to you what I think is wrong." He said slowly, sitting down in a nearby chair and not looking at her, "But you have to understand... I'm not qualified to deal with any of this. I might be wrong, I might have misunderstood this spell you've cast on yourself. So don't... panic or anything."

Daine nodded, trying to force down the fear that had come back as soon as he mentioned the word "panic". And, very quietly, very carefully, the healer had said...

...her eyes flew open in the dark. The few short minutes flashed through her mind over and over again, like a spindle whirling behind her eyes. She covered her eyes with a hand and sat up, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep even if she tried. Dully she realised her hand was shaking slightly, and lowered it again. Careful not to disturb Numair, she slid out of bed and walked out of the room.

She only lit one candle from the embers in the fireplace, but the light was bright enough to make her wince and cover her eyes again. The shaking silhouettes of her fingers glowed russet against the candlelight, sliding into focus slowly as her eyes adjusted to the light. As soon as she knew she would be able to see without her eyes stinging, she lowered the hand again. She stared at the candle.

It lacked the cutting clarity of the words. It danced in the small breezes of the room, a point of attention that blocked out her mind for a few blissful minutes. Soon, though, the thoughts returned. And the guilt returned.

Absently, she glanced at her hand. She had thought it was resting on the desk, but the rough surface under it was the book. She smiled wryly.

"Figures." She said quietly. The book seemed to tremble under her hand, its frayed edges becoming neat and new until it hardly looked like itself- it could have been one of the text books the pages carried around with them. Her thoughts turned into the seductive whisper,

Disguise it. Hide it. Numair will never recognise it. He'll never know. And then you won't have to tell him. Hide it away! Make everything go back to the way it was...

"Stop it." She said sharply, and the whispers disappeared. The book snapped back into its normal shape, looking incredibly shabby and pathetic in the candlelight. She immediately felt bad for snapping at it, and then wondered why.

It's only trying to protect itself. She realised, It must have been designed to survive.

Survive? Why? It's a book!

"I will figure this out." She whispered, "I think... I do know enough to figure this out. I have to."

She stared at the candle, letting the memories fill her mind again...

...The healer had told her off for speaking too loudly, but the cries of some of the patients had almost drowned his voice out. When she was leaving she had asked why there were so many of them. Flatly, he told her that they were the latest victims of the Immortals' attacks.

"As far as I can tell," he said, "There were more and more Immortals crossing the realms each day, and suddenly yesterday they stopped. For almost a day there was nothing, as if something was keeping them away. The knights were just letting their guard down last night when another wave attacked- not as many as before, but this time they weren't expecting it." He glanced into the long room that had been converted into a hospital since the start of the war, a nerve twitching near one eye as he looked at the people who were beyond help. Then he shook his head and gestured for her to leave.

"At least," he said as she opened the door, "there hasn't been another attack since then. Whatever's keeping them away has stayed there this time."

...she hadn't thought much of it at the time, but it suddenly seemed important.

It's odd, she thought, the times he said are the same as everything that happened here.

The thought struck her so suddenly she nearly jumped. That was it! She bit her lip to stop from laughing out loud, while at the same time fighting back the urge to cry. She lit another candle so that she could see, and opened the book.

"I know what you are." She said to it. The page remained blank, but she knew now that it didn't matter. This book was never supposed to be read. It was created to protect itself, to disguise itself, to help its own interests in any way it could. If that involved giving people information then it would, but for all they knew the things it told them could be completely false.

"You're the base of a spell, aren't you?" She continued. "There has to be balance, right? And the boundary is made of pure magic, from the divine realm. For there to be balance, there has to be some kind of physical magic on this side. And that's you, isn't it? And the... the blood spell somehow linked me into it, so when I'm strong the barrier is strong, too. Right? That's why the barrier failed last night when I was ill!"

The book remained silent, but silently started to warp into a new form. Within seconds it had shed its disguise and simply stood on the table like an ornate sculpture. She watched it change in a daze, half surprised that she had been right.

The shape the book had chosen- the one she knew now to be its true form- was almost beautiful. It was a curved latticework of wood and wire, the joins in the wood carved with spell runes so that the natural weaknesses in the frame were a part of the design. The wood shone a deep cherry brown, the colour the book's leather binding had been. The runes that were carved into the wood seemed to absorb the darkness of the wood, gleaming in the soft light with dark fire.

Bronze wire looped around the runes but did not join them; instead it formed a second layer of more intricate patterns over the top. These patterns glowed with light and brightness, a thousand points of crystalline luminescence that curved into droplets of brightness whenever two wires overlapped. It was only by looking closely that Daine could see the third layer of patterns in wire thread so thin it was nearly invisible. The last layer shifted, staying as no real shade for more than a few seconds.

Darkness, light, and chaos.

At regular points across the frame, the three patterns met in a complicated design. Where ever this had happened, a small opal had been fixed to the center of the knotwork. Some of these opals had taken in the light from the runes, and glowed steadily with the gentle pulse of living magic. Others were faded, or completely black, their power gone. Daine realised that where this had happened, some of the runes around the stones had been damaged. She touched one of the smaller breaks carefully, wondering what could have damaged it when the spell had been in disguise for so long.

As her fingers touched it, the dark green and copper fire she had seen before flowed between her hand and the spell, running into the breaks. She yanked her hand away. The fire shone on the spell for a moment, lighting it eerily. For a moment she thought she could see tiny claw marks in the wood- the sharp cuts of stormwing feathers, the savage clawing of the hurrocks- and then the marks were gone.

The fire sank into the wood. As it disappeared, the broken opal began to glow again.

Daine bit her lip and stared at the spell thoughtfully. She chose one of the larger opals, that was shining a faded grey, and reached towards it.

"Don't." Numair said quietly. Daine jumped and looked around. The lanky mage was leaning in the doorway, trying to study the spell and yawn at the same time. She started speaking while he was still yawning, realising that was probably all that was keeping him from asking a hundred questions.

"It's the barrier." Her voice was quiet, weary. "It's the actual barrier. The part of it that's... that's real. And it's broken. And it was never even a book; it was only repeating things that were part of its spell. You couldn't have broken the code on it; Parts of it are just gone. And how long have you been there?"

"Since you started talking to it." He leaned forward to examine the spell more closely, keeping a careful distance from it. He frowned at the opal that had been broken.

"Did you mean to cast magic on it?" He asked. Daine blinked.

"What kind of question is that?"

He sighed and stood up straight. "Daine..."

"No," She said too quickly, "It just pulled it out of me. But it fixed a part of the spell, so I thought..."

"What about the green magic?" He interrupted. As he spoke, he carefully touched the centre of a spell spiral with one long digit. Daine flinched, expecting the same sudden burst of light as before, but nothing happened.

"I thought that was the... the book thing. The barrier's magic." She said, confusion obvious in her voice. He shook his head, tracing the spell carefully.

"I don't think it has magic. I mean, it is magic, but it doesn't use the Gift or anything. It's like... um... a chimney. If it wasn't there the fire would be dangerous or useless, but it has nothing to do with the actual fire itself."

"But you've only just seen it!" Daine realised her voice was exasperated, and decided she didn't care. "How come you've figured all that out all of a sudden?"

"Well, no magical constructs can produce magic. They can only channel it. If you have a magic item that's casting spells then it's usually someone else acting through it." He smiled at her suddenly. "If you're right about it being the barrier, then it might be a good thing that you linked yourself to it. That must have been what the Spidren meant when he spoke to you." He hardly realised he was speaking more quickly as more thoughts occurred to him. "It was broken, so it would have fallen, but as long as you're linked to it, it can't be completely destroyed."

The girl blinked, and then stared at the floor. "It's not a good thing. It's terrible. The immortals will never stop trying to kill for this. And whoever else wants the spell. Mages, kings...emperors." She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. "And they might not even have to try. I could get sick and die, and the barrier would fall."

"That's rather pessimistic." Numair said drily. She didn't answer. "Did the healer say the spell was making you sick?" He asked, suddenly worried. She shook her head. "Then what's wrong?"

"Green magic." She said, and smiled slowly. The feeling of dread couldn't overcome the eclipsing joy. "The healer said I got sick because... because I'm pregnant. When I linked myself to the barrier, I must have linked the baby too."


	24. Chapter 24

His name, apparently, was Mister Lawrence. It was very clear that the "Mister" was a part of the name, and not to be replaced with anything vaguely like a first name. It was an introduction that would have been dehumanising, if the man had possessed an indication of humanity to start off with. But as it was, his appearance and poise was as staid and businesslike as it had been when they first met him. If he cared why they were there, he didn't show it; it might have been a simple business transaction.

He led them through the building as if he was simply showing them an office complex. And, at first, that was all it seemed to be. The stone architecture that clad the building was gone, and in its place there were whitewashed walls, steel girders, and tiled floors. Their footsteps echoed along the corridors, and were swallowed up in the bright halogen light.

After the long corridors came the fleeting glances of vast offices, seen through glass panels on the way past. Even at that hour, people were working at the desks, oblivious to the darkness outside. The corridor led past hundreds of working people, who barely glanced up at the visitors who stared at them so incredulously. Then there was a change: the light turned purple, and the corridor led onwards, past scores of darkened rooms where people were apparently sleeping. Another corner in the corridor, and suddenly the light was a soft yellow. Now and then there would be a glimpse of a canteen, or a small store. The same disinterested –looking people walked between the coloured areas, barely speaking or looking up as they went about their daily tasks.

It's like a town, Daniel thought, staring at a compact gymnasium. All these people must live here. He glanced up at the ceiling, noting how every light was accompanied by a camera or a sensor. Apparently, security was important. Maybe these people didn't want to be here, after all.

Mister Lawrence must have noticed the brief movement, for he dropped back to walk next to the boy. One of the guards seamlessly took over the front of the group.

"You're getting the guided tour," Lawrence said, "Orders from the top. You want to know about our security arrangements, boy? Every corridor has complete sensor and camera surveillance, and every sensor is coded with the Gift. If someone breaks the rules, they can be seen and punished in the same breath."

"What happened to the Gift being illegal?" Echo demanded, pushing through the group impatiently. A guard grabbed at her arm, stopping her from getting close to the leader. "What happened to the sanctuary group? Who are all these people?"

"Oh, they're all mages." The Sorrock's voice was casual; he waved the guard aside with a lazy gesture. "They got the same sort of deal as you lot. You tell us who's on the outside, we bring them in here, and then they have a choice."

He continued talking as the corridor started to slope gently downwards. There were less people around, and more dark rooms. The halogen lights stopped; clinical blue light started spilling gently out of the rooms. There was only one exit, Lawrence explained, and it was the one they had come in through. Once a mage was in the complex the Gateway remembered their gift, and locked the door behind them. The only way to get out was with special permission from "the top".

"Not many people want to leave, of course." He said blandly, "Their families are usually the ones who turned them in, and usually they're very young when they come here. This is really all they know. They work for five days a week, have one day free, and spend one day..." He opened one of the doors, letting light spill into the corridor, "In here."

It looked for all the world like a normal healer's clinic, or a blood donation centre. Two rows of neat hospital beds lined the walls, each one occupied by a single person. Green-clad men and women walked from person to person, checking clipboards and speaking to each other in hushed voices. The people in the chairs ranged from the old to very young- Daniel spotted a boy about Leanne's age on one of them- and they all looked peaceful, as if they were sleeping. Where there would have been tubes and intravenous bags in a clinic, there were strange machines that whirred as lazy sparks of the Gift drifted to them from the cables that were lodged in each person's hand.

"When they wake up, they're completely docile for another week. It takes that long for the Gift to be properly replenished." Lawrence's voice was flat, as if he were reading his words from a script. "Naturally, those... employees... who are required for active service are excused from donating for the duration of their employment." He waved a hand idly at the guards. "Some people prefer manual labour to visiting the clinic."

"Docile?" Echo's voice was incredulous, "They're not sheep, for Mithros' sake!"

"These ones are." It was one of the guards who spoke, snapping the words poisonously. "They just gave up. They caved in to this. They'd rather be...sheep ...than to work for the Sorrocks."

"Ducan, on the other hand, would do anything to avoid being a sheep." Lawrence's tone was over-bright, his eyes sharp as he looked at the guard. The man flinched slightly as the Sorrock's gaze passed over him. Daniel forced himself not to react as it settled on him. "Do you understand? Then let us leave. We have something we wish to show you." As the crowd started to leave, he held up a hand. "Just I and the children, I think. I wouldn't want the rest of you breaking anything."

Daniel thought this was more of a sleight at the guards than the prisoners, but held his tongue and waved cheerfully at Oscar's scowling face as he left.

The final room was smaller, darker. Slow light flickered from the corners, highlighting and softening the shapes of the cabinets that lined the walls. Hints of treasures gleamed within the cases- the sensuous curve of a Yamani vase, the brighter glint of a sword, the cloth like softness of paper. The items in this room looked more valuable than any museum Daniel had ever visited. The door whispered shut behind them with a pneumatic hiss.

"The atmosphere must be very carefully controlled." Lawrence said, more genuine interest in his voice now. "The light, and the humidity- all these things can have an effect. These are all incredibly powerful items, whether magically or more... practically."

Katy shuddered and looked away from a cabinet that held a large silver feather. Dark stains stained the strands of it as if it had been driven through someone's flesh. "You brought us here to... to show off your collection?" She asked. Lawrence shook his head.

"You're here for the same reason all the other dissidents have been here." He smiled. "You own one artefact, we own another. For years that has been enough. Now, though, I feel that neither of us are in possession of all the facts. Therefore I am going to show you that which created the Sorrocks, and then you are going to give me the book."

"What book?" Daniel said instinctively as Katy flinched. Lawrence smiled at the girl's confirming gesture and opened one of the cabinets, ignoring the question. He took out a thin glass tray, in which a few sheets of paper were suspended. The tray was designed to both protect the pages and make them more readable, as both sides could be seen clearly. However the paper was obviously very old; the edges had crumbled into dust and the ink was brown and faded. He handed it to Daniel and smirked.

"Read it. There will be no compromise- I will have the book. But this is a... compensation. You can have the answers in return."

"What if I refuse the answers?" Daniel asked seriously. The Sorrock shook his head- no compromises- and nodded at the pages. The boy bit his lip and angled the tray into a good light, and began to read hesitantly out loud. He did not notice the sudden change in Lawrence's face. The writing was incredibly familiar- it wrote hesitantly, and the page was rather smudged.  
 _  
My dear children,_

_I hope you are well, and that this letter reaches you. I'm sorry that I have to write to you, instead of speaking to you. I want nothing more than to hold you in my arms and tell you the stories my mother told me, and the truth of all this. But I can't. The only way I can keep you safe is by giving you up, and I hope one day you'll forgive me._

_They said they would tell you that your parents were dead, and I guess in a way that's true. We're not in the mortal realm any more, and we cannot return to it. We leave nothing of ourselves behind when we cross, only stories and memories and letters. So I guess in a way we will be dead. –here, a smudge broke the chain of thought.- sorry, your father is telling me not to be so miserable. We aren't dead, we're watching over you, and we always will. I suppose the best word for it is... trapped. But I should explain._

_Before you were born, there was a war. We fought- all of us- and we won. Or at least, we thought we had. Soon after the final battle, we found out that our enemy had cast a spell that had damaged the barrier between the realms more deeply than we had thought. The battles we had fought would be nothing compared to the terror that would come when the barrier finally collapsed. We knew we couldn't survive._

_Your father found the spells that had been cast, and studied them, and found a book. The book was older than the others- older than anything else there- and it was very powerful. We found out that it had to be decoded, and that it changed to protect itself. To try to solve it I bound myself to the book with blood. Your father looks angry at the memory; he says that it became "symbiotic" and that it was an idiotic thing to do._

_Anyway, the book isn't really a book. It's a part of the barrier that exists in the mortal realm. It can be healed or damaged just like any mortal thing. I tried to heal it during the first battles, and for a while this kept the monsters at bay. But to heal it was draining- it made me ill- and while I was pregnant I feared that it might make you ill as well. So I stopped healing the spell, and in the immortal realms, the other part of the barrier began to break down. We had a few years where we were constantly torn from you children to fight, to protect you, always terrified that the next attack might be the one where they break through. The attacks continued, and by the time I was well enough to try to heal the barrier, it was almost destroyed._

_Our friends knew about the barrier, and the risk, and we decided that the only way to stop the immortals breaking through in hordes would be to defend the barrier at its source, in the immortal realms. The book is a vital part of the barrier, but it is not the main barrier- it is like the hinges of a door. If the hinges are weak the door is still in place, but it is more likely to collapse. Your father tells me you will know what a hinge is, and to carry on._

_I was the only person who was linked to the barrier- the book only accepted one person's blood, I do not know why. So I was the obvious person to cross the realms to repair it. I had been through the realms before, and had a restriction placed on me- I asked the higher gods, and was granted permission to cross the realms only once. Only once- and not to return! I have never heard such swearing from your father before or since! But he is pulling faces at me again, I should continue._

_Since I could not fight the immortals alone, we asked for people to volunteer to help us. We made sure they knew the price- in the immortal realm you do not age or sicken, but you must fight off every attack and you cannot return. The people who decided to come with us- I suppose their names are only stories now, too- but you grew up with their children. We have the resources to fight, and to maintain the barrier if nothing more._

_We have been here fifteen years now, although sometimes we lose count. One day seems like another- we don't get older, and we cannot move away from the barrier, and there are no new people to meet. The differences are in the scars we might have, the different battles we face, the new ideas that we discuss. My mother granted us a scrying pool, and we can see you growing up and shaping your world. We cannot talk to you, and we see the world slowly forgetting our struggle for them as it begins to live in peace and prosperity._

_The only link you have with us is the book, since it must always be kept in the mortal realms. I hope your guardians are wise enough to warn you about it before you try to use it. It contains magic that is beyond mortal ability, and it is dangerous. I am linked with it; I can speak through it and control it, but it was designed to protect itself above all things, and will do anything to keep itself safe. We sacrificed our mortal lives and our lives with our children to this spell: we pray that others won't have to sacrifice more._

_My father is crossing the realms for the summer solstice and has promised to deliver this letter to you, but no more after it, for fear of angering the higher gods. I write with all the love I possess. I watch over you when you are in need of comfort and wish to hold you. I know how you weep and how you laugh and sing, and the only way I can try to make you understand why I'm not with you is in this one short letter. I don't know whether to ask for your love or your forgiveness for the choice I had to make._

It was signed in one abrupt stroke of the pen, as if the writer didn't know how to refer to herself. The bottom of the page was stained more deeply than the rest of the paper. Daniel looked up at Lawrence, his eyes wide, utterly speechless.

"Her children never got the letter." The Sorrock said bluntly, taking the paper away. "According to a courier's account, it was found in a field near Tortall during a hunt. The men chased off a pack of deer and this was what they'd been standing around. It had been sitting in dew for nearly an hour before the stupid men decided to pick it up, and by that point the ink had run and they couldn't see who it was addressed to. They stuffed it in a cabinet with some other papers- deeds to the land, letters and so on- and forgot about it. The cabinet was sold at auction many times until it came into the hands of a collector: Sorr. He found the papers and recognised this as exceptional, although it was unreadable at that point. He took it to a restoration artist. It survives as you see it today."

"Sorr knew about the book." Daniel replied, "He took it from a woman who he killed. He could have recognised the same writing even if there was only one visible word on the letter."

"Exactly." Lawrence's eyes were dark, unreadable. "The book itself was passed down through this woman's descendants, but evidently their guardians warned them a little too harshly- it was never studied, it was treated as a simple heirloom, and since there was nothing magical left to fight the study of magic tomes soon fell from fashion. By the time there was a renewed interest, our language had changed so much that we couldn't understand the tomes anyway. Only a few people are able to read it, and they are only able to do it for one reason."

"Different language?" Katy asked, echoed closely by Daniel. The older man smiled and carefully put the letter down.

"Indeed. Today was the first time I've heard the content of that letter. I'm sure the book will be even more fascinating."

"But... it's not in a different language." Daniel noticed the pleading note in his own voice. Lawrence's smile widened.

"The only reason you can read it is because someone else is reading through your eyes."


	25. Chapter 25

From: Sorrock Defence Corporation, Identification post #37, Retrieval and Research Agent #6492 "T. Collard".

Time of entry: September 21, 12.03PM

Subject: Leanne Kitwake

Subject retrieved at 9.43AM. Medium resources of the Gift apparent, classification: "Healing". Subject is young enough to be initiated into Program #24. Other Notes: Subject is related to #73,201 "Daniel", member of Program #60. No other family identified in program. Residue of spell discovered but deemed non-threatening by consult (Agent #4726 "J. Clarke") End of Report.

From: Sorrock Defence Corporation, Organisational post #1, Agent #35 "M. Lawrence"

Time of entry: September 21, 12.32PM

Subject: Re: Leanne Kitwake

Subject to be treated with care: delay entry into Program #24 until authorised. Confirmation required: identification of residual spell.

From: Sorrock Defence Corporation, Identification post #37, Retrieval and Research Agent #6492 "T. Collard".

Time of entry: September 21, 12.37PM

Subject: Re: Re: Leanne Kitwake

Unable to identify spell. It appears to be a hybrid of an illusion and a repression, possibly used to hide Subject's gift from authority. Request authorisation to discipline person responsible?

From: Sorrock Defence Corporation, Organisational post #1, Agent #35 "M. Lawrence"

Time of entry: September 21, 12.45PM

Subject: Re: Leanne Kitwake

Approved. Identify dissident through Gift-fingerprint analysis.

From: Sorrock Defence Corporation, Identification post #37, Retrieval and Research Agent #6492 "T. Collard".

Time of entry: September 21, 4.32PM

Subject: Re: Re: Leanne Kitwake

Unable to identify Gift. Caster is a level 1 Mage who is not registered under any program. Gift-Fingerprint does not match the ID of any persons linked to the Subject's family or known acquaintances. This has been confirmed by three consults. The spell was cast roughly one week prior to today's date. Examination of CCTV footage of the area has confirmed that no persons outside the family/acquaintance circle had access to the child. Request a full investigation.

From: Sorrock Defence Corporation, Organisational post #1, Agent #35 "M. Lawrence"

Time of entry: September 21, 4.33PM

Subject: Re: Leanne Kitwake

Declined. Move Subject to Project #3.

From: Sorrock Defence Corporation, Identification post #37, Retrieval and Research Agent #6492 "T. Collard".

Time of entry: September 21, 4.40PM

Subject: Re: Re: Leanne Kitwake

Subject dispatched.

888

Surveillance Video: Audio Transcription: Evidence of Possible Suspicious Activity

Captured September 22, 5.23AM in Area 62

Identified Subjects: Daniel KITWAKE, Katy MONROE, Defence officer #42,167

MONROE: Where did the other guards go? I thought...

KITWAKE: Why would they guard us now?

MONROE: Well, they were before. I mean, even if they're just taking us to somewhere we can sleep it still seems-

KITWAKE: We can't leave this place. You'd think they'd risk that, after telling us all this? There's no way to get through that sensor. And they probably have cameras tracking us. We should be careful what we say.

MONROE: I don't understand you, I really don't. You don't even seem to care anymore! After what he said- that letter-

KITWAKE: I said we should be careful what we say.

MONROE: I heard you the first time!

KITWAKE: Then bloody act like you did!

[Pause, duration approx. 00:06]

MONROE: ...oh.

KITWAKE: Remember what we talked about before? It'll all be okay.

MONROE: I hope so. I really do.

Captured September 22, 5.46AM in Dorm 21

Identified Subjects: Daniel KITWAKE, Katy MONROE

MONROE: Daniel!

KITWAKE: Argh! What the hell are you doing here?

MONROE: Do you remember what you said about that Stormwing? That it was looking for Leanne?

KITWAKE: Ssh!

MONROE: [quietly] It makes sense! They'd be looking for the book, too. And the book said they were getting weaker. The barrier must be almost broken. I bet there are more of those... things out there. They'll be trying to find us.

[Pause, duration approx. 00:23]

KITWAKE: It took nearly a whole regiment to take that thing down.

MONROE: Exactly.

[Pause, duration approx. 00.08]

KITWAKE: Can you... is there any way you could contact them?

ALARM SYSTEM ACTIVATED: 6.26AM in Dorm Wing 1: Unauthorised use of Gift detected in Dorm 21. Status: Speaking spell.

From: Sorrock Defence Corporation, Organisational post #1, Agent #35 "M. Lawrence"

To: Alarm Response Team #6

Time of entry: September 21, 6.40PM

Subject: Katy Monroe

Detain Subject MONROE in Dorm Wing until further instructed. Do not repeat DO NOT penalise. Escort Subject KITWAKE to Artefact Hall. End of instructions.

888


	26. Chapter 26

He was left alone- or, as alone as it was possible to be in this place. The cameras looked down at him disapprovingly, simultaneously guarding the artefacts and reminding him of how he had got back into the artefact room. He didn't know what they'd done with Katy- it had taken only a few breaths for the guards to come rushing into the room, for them to take in the guilty remnants of the Gift that still shone around her hands, and for them to drag her away. She smiled at him as she left.

Katy had next to no training, and no control over her magic like the Sorrocks seemed to have. The spell she had chosen to cast had no form or shape, as she didn't know how to construct it. She concentrated, and her lips moved in silent pleading. A soft light appeared around her hands, and then flickered and faded. She cursed under her breath, shaking her head as if to clear it.

Daniel watched, fascinated, not aware of the burning sensation in his foot until it was scalding. He swore loudly and kicked away whatever it was. His bag flew across the room with a thud of schoolbooks and clothes. Everything that could be dangerous had been taken away, including the book. Maybe the people who'd searched the bag had also dipped it in acid?

Katy stared at the bag, the spell almost forgotten. "Mithros wept..." she whispered, "Daniel..."

He nodded and picked up the bag, tipping the contents onto a table. He was expecting it, but was still amazed when he found the book, safely disguised as a weekly planner. The real planner was nowhere to be seen- he guessed it was now disguised as an ancient book, and under lock and key. A lazy spark drifted across the book's cover, as if the book was greeting them. It was no longer burning hot, but still warm. He opened it to the first blank page and waited.

The words appeared in a careful scrawl,  
 _  
What are you trying to do?_

Daniel scrambled in the ruins of his school bag until he could find a pen, remembering that he should be quiet only after he dropped half the books on the floor. He flinched and wrote back,

-Hello, Daine.

The book seemed to hesitate before replying.  
 _  
Hello yourself. It's not just me here. And it's rude to read other people's letters. And that's all I have to say about that. And you still haven't told me what you're trying to do._

-We want to summon the Immortals. The ones that have crossed the barrier already.

 _You're an **idiot.**_ The final sentence ended with a stabbed full stop, nearly blotted in its violence. Daniel and Katy waited, holding their breath- surely there had to be more than that. After a few seconds another message appeared slowly, as if the writer didn't want to pen the thought. _Numair wants to know why._

"What do we tell them?" Daniel asked in a whisper. Katy shrugged, her eyes riveted on the book.

"I vote we be honest. They know most of it anyway, and if they're asking us to explain then maybe they'll help us."

"Can't we... can't you do it on your own?" Daniel asked, feeling stupid but not wanting to voice his thoughts: before, it was just a book, a thing, unpredictable but something within their control. And suddenly it was a bridge between themselves and two living, very real and very powerful legendary mages- at least one of whom thought he was an idiot. Asking for their help was like... was like asking someone with a doctorate to teach a child how to spell. And they were people- with their own thoughts and plans and emotions- irrational and untrustworthy and unpredictable and utterly mysterious. Katy seemed to read some of this on his face. She clumsily hugged him with one arm.

"They're normal people, just like us." She whispered, "They're not stories, or gods. They need our help too. And no, I can't do this on my own. I'm not strong enough. So I vote we trust them."

Daniel nodded once, and started writing. He explained about the Stormwing, and how it had been looking for them. He told them about the Sorrocks, and the hidden ranks of mages that had been trained in this place. He told them about the draining machines. He told them about his sister.  
 _  
Are you saying they deserve to die?_ This wasn't the same handwriting, the tone was much more direct. Katy bit her lip, took the pen from Daniel, and replied.

-It's a diversion more than anything. If their attention is focused somewhere else then we can try to break down the door barriers. People can get out and tell others about this place. Without the drainers the balance of Gift will be restored.

_You underestimate the immortals, I think. They will not differentiate between these Sorrocks or the people that might escape. And if you are right then their target will not be the base but you two and this book. You could possibly fight a single guard between you, but not a single Stormwing or Spidren. And they will come in packs._

-This place is well defended. There will be time. Katy wrote, her eyes narrowing. And if we fight that single guard then we will have weapons. I am not afraid to fight.  
 _  
Really? I thought you found the sight of blood abhorrent. Don't reply to that; I apologise. Wait a while. We must think._

The writing stopped abruptly. Katy scowled at the book and put the pen down. "I almost preferred it as a book. Then at least I wouldn't feel like it was talking about me behind my back."

"Katy..." Daniel tailed off, then started again, "Do you think my sister's here?"

"Probably." She replied without thinking, and then looked stricken. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"It's fine. It needs to be done. But... can we look for her if the immortals do attack?" Daniel looked at his lap, where his hands twisted round each other uneasily. "I know the big things are important, but I'd never forgive myself if..."

"Of course." Katy said quickly, "She'll be fine."

They sat in silence for a while, looking into the sterile darkness of the room meaninglessly. The complex, full of people and movement even at this time of night, hummed with soft noise. The distant rumble of voices, occasional footsteps and deep underlying murmur of machinery fused into a single wall of muted sound. Katy yawned and leaned against Daniel's shoulder sleepily.

"You know, this seems so much like a dream," She murmured, "Every time I close my eyes I think I'll open them back in my room, and I'll be halfway through studying for my exams, and my dad will be downstairs making dinner." She yawned again and carried on more quietly, "But I don't know if I want to wake up sometimes. I'm scared, and tired, and angry- but it feels like I'm doing something important, and that's a new feeling for me."

Daniel nodded but did not answer, relishing the silence. Kate's voice grew quieter. "There will be a gap between when the spell is cast and when they attack, if they even do. If they split us up, and then all hell breaks loose, you should find your sister first. I'll look for the main control room."

"That's... you can't look for it on your own. It's much more dangerous than looking for a child." Daniel said. Katy smiled, her eyes sleepily flickering shut.

"It's the best way. I can do it."

Daniel started to answer, then stopped as he realised the girl had fallen asleep against his shoulder. He shifted the book from the bed into his lap where he could see it, then leaned his head against hers and watched it. His own eyes were sliding shut when words began to scrawl across the page.  
 _  
Wake Katy up and tell her to cast the spell. We will help._

The spell had glittered around her hands, and this time it was smoother and more focused. She did not move her lips, but nodded as if a voice was whispering instructions into her ear. The fire became darker and darker as streams of black interlaced with the blue. Daniel glanced at the book and realised that the black fire was streaming directly from the page they'd been writing on. As he watched, the edges of the paper began to curl up and char.

"Is this hurting you?" He asked. Daine's writing appeared almost conversationally.  
 _  
No more than it's hurting her._

The boy looked up, alarmed. Katy's face was set with concentration, but there was a set to her jaw that was more than just that. Out of the corner of his eye he could see more writing scrawling across the page, staying more in the center now that the edges were crumbling to dust.

 _She knew it was going to be difficult. A spell to shout across the world needs more than an untrained hedge-witch's power. She knew that when she asked. While she is concentrating I must tell you: Do not look for your sister. She is safe enough, and we don't want..._ the words scrawled to a halt, then started again. _It would only complicate things. It should take half an hour for the Immortals to reach you. Make sure you are ready. We won't be able to use the book for a while after this, it will be too damaged, so if you have any questions ask them now._

A scant inch of the page remained undamaged. Daniel glanced at it, then shook his head. A single sentence appeared, then was consumed.  
 _  
Good-bye then, and good luck._

As the page was destroyed, the fire in Katy's hands glowed brightly for a split second, blinding them, then grew into a towering beam of light that passed straight through the ceiling. Daniel blinked the sunspots from his eyes, still half blind, and closed the book.

"That was subtle," he muttered. Katy laughed weakly next to him and collapsed backwards onto the bed.

"I thought I was going to burst into flames," she said, almost in tears, "Every drop of my blood turned to fire." She raised her hands and stared at the m for a second , then dropped them and took a deep breath as if she'd been drowning. "I suppose now we just wait for the guards to arrive."


	27. Chapter 27

Katy pretended to be exhausted. This was not difficult- the lack of sleep and the weariness from casting the spell had completely drained her, and she now looked as pale and limp as a fainting woman in a bad romantic novel. She pretended to stagger, and let her feet drag along the floor, until the guard who escorted her was forced to half-carry her along. Wherever she was being taken, it was a long way away from the dorm wing, and even the guard began to groan at the sight of another unending corridor. They got slower and slower. Katy pretended to collapse completely, sliding silently onto the cold floor, and was rewarded by a creative volley of cursing.

The guard didn't try to pick her up. He pulled a radio intercom out of his belt and began to speak in to it, speaking first to his superior and then waiting as the superior spoke to someone in the medical wing. Katy let the time pass, lying perfectly still with her eyes shut, the chill of the floor keeping her awake. The guard paused in his conversation to swear at length about stupid teenage girls, and then started speaking to his superior again. The superior was not happy- his side of the conversation was all accusations- and the guard turned his back on the girl, embarrassed. Katy took the opportunity to reach up and slide the guard's gun from its hip-holster as softly as she could. He didn't react; she hid the weapon under her shirt in the belt of her jeans and lay back down.

The superior stopped yelling at the guard for long enough to tell him to take the "sick girl" to the medical wing. As soon as he had his orders, the guard turned the radio off with a click, hefted the girl over one shoulder, and cursed his way down another corridor.

Katy waited.

She was dumped without much dignity into a reclining chair. She forced herself not to panic, not to think about the draining chairs that she'd seen earlier. She let her eyes flicker slowly open. The world blurred for a moment, then sharpened into focus. No-one was watching her, apart from a single camera which was slowly looking up and down the long ward of chairs. She waited until it was looking away, and checked that the gun was still invisible.

Whoever the medical officer was, he didn't seem too bothered about the new arrival. Katy waited. She guessed it would take under an hour for the immortals to arrive- if they were going to. It would probably be very obvious when they did arrive. She let her eyes shut, and this time fell asleep.

She woke up when the alarms shrilled- sirens and buzzers and ringing bells shrieking from every corner of the building. Katy yelped and covered her ears, almost deafened in her sleepy haze. Before anyone else in the wing could think to react, she slipped from the chair and started running out of the room. Other patients sat up in their chairs, covering their ears or looking at each other in perplexed panic. Some stared at her as she ran past, but none of them stood up or moved. She was nearly at the door when the medical officer arrived, staring wide-eyed at the running girl. She skidded to a halt, nearly slipping on the polished floor, and pulled out the gun.

"Let me past." She said, her voice drowned out by the noise. The officer seemed to get the message, though- he shook his head and spread out his arms. As he did, someone deactivated one of the main alarms, making it quiet enough to shout over them.

"Let me past!" She yelled. The man looked directly at her, ready to refuse, and gaped. She blinked, and then recognised him. Willing her face to remain calm, she raised the gun again.

"I don't want to shoot you." She said, "But I will if you don't let me past."

He nodded mutely and stood aside. As she started to run off he called after her, using her name. She turned around and glared at him.

"Is Daniel with you?" He asked. She nodded fiercely once, and then ran away along the corridor. The medical officer ran his fingers through his hair in agitation once, and then began to walk down the corridor in the opposite direction.

Katy ran without any real sense of direction, letting her instinct take her to where she'd been before. Cold morning light now poured into the complex through tiny windows along the walls, so blue that she couldn't tell if it was real or just another machine designed to keep control. She remembered the words that had been whispered into her ear while she was casting the spell, both soothing and frightening when all she wanted to do was scream from the fire in her veins.

Trust us. Trust in yourself, and your instincts. Everything can be overcome...

Ignore the distractions. Calm your mind, don't think about what might be but focus on what is...

She realised she had been running with her eyes shut and gasped, sliding to a halt. The corridors were deserted. Unbelievably, her blind running had brought her to the artefact room's door. On an impulse as strong as the one that had made her take the book into the van with her before the explosion, she pushed open the door and walked in.

The room was empty. She remembered the guards saying they were taking Daniel there; he had probably made a run for it about the same time she had. Still pushed by the same strange impulse, she walked towards one of the furthest cabinets and opened it.

Gleaming in the soft amber light was a stained silver feather, sharper than any sword, more elegant than any dagger. It curved softly around a bronze bangle. The bangle was plain, with dark patches and dents riddled on its surface. Without knowing why, she slipped it on to her wrist and picked up the feather.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" Said a cold, familiar voice. She span around and glared at Lawrence, who glared back. "You're a little thief as well as a trouble making mage. Your... diversion is proving quite a challenge, you know."

"The people these things belong to are still alive. They're not yours." She replied, her voice shaking slightly. He noticed the weakness and held out a hand.

"Give me the book, the real book, and I'll let you keep them." His voice was silky, persuasive. "It'll be our secret."

She held her hands behind her back. "I don't have the book. And I wouldn't give it to you if I did! You can't hurt me anyway; you can't read it and I can."

He smiled, idly opening another cabinet. She thought about making a run for it, but he was between her and the door. "Poor little girl, you seem to be quite mistaken." He took one of the swords out of the case and tested the edge, wincing at the sharpness. "I only need one of you to be alive to read the book, and you just made yourself expendable. I'd prefer not to damage the artiefacts, though." He suddenly swung the sword in a lightning motion until it was pointed at her throat. "Give me the items, and your death will be painless."

Katy bit her lip and reached into her pocket reluctantly, shaking in terror. Lawrence's smile widened, showing teeth.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and then pulled the gun from her pocket and fired.

The loud retort echoed around the room. Lawrence's eyes widened. He didn't fall over, or stagger, but touched the tiny hole in his shirt with long fingers and stared at her. Blood dripped over his fingers- so much blood for such a tiny wound.

There was a space, a pause, a heartbeat.

Lawrence slumped over a cabinet.

As soon as he was still, Katy ran for the door. She took the bangle and the feather with her, and made sure the safety catch was off the gun before she put it back in her pocket. She didn't look back when she left.


	28. Chapter 28

Echo dreamed in swear words. To her mind, the worst thing about being back in the headquarters was the lack of coffee or alcohol, and the fact that they'd locked her up in what was little more than a cupboard was secondary. They might have at least given her something to read! She slept restlessly, woke up knowing that she was bored and cranky even in her sleep. She washed her face in the tiny sink, then sat on the floor, leaned against the bed and drank the tasteless tea they'd left. It was plain that there was more going on than just a change of leadership for the sanctuary, and she was beginning to doubt whether she'd ever leave this place.

Not that there was much to go back to, she had to admit. But at least there was genuine caffeine outside these walls. Escape was definitely preferable to a life without beverages.

She look around at the cell and cursed her wandering mind. Now the thought of escape was there, the walls seemed so much closer. Perhaps, she thought, if I glare at the door for long enough, it will eventually become so uncomfortable that it will open of its own accord.

This scientific experiment with carried out with more than adequate amounts of glare. With no sense of time, only the rapid cooling of her drink convinced her that this door was either very thick skinned, or it just didn't have a sense of shame.

"Figures," she muttered.

She was about to try stage two of the experiment ("The repeated application of swear words might turn this pond-water tea into coffee") when the door swung open quietly. She blinked at it, then stood up expecting to see a guard waiting to escort her somewhere. Instead, it was a man who she'd met before, and one who was carrying a young child. The girl was fast asleep, her thumb in her mouth, snuggling happily against the man's chest.

"Holy shit." Echo said loudly. Now the door was open she could also hear the alarms- sirens ringing in the distance, near the outside of the compound. There were also strange keening noises, like laughter, which blended the sirens into an eerie wail. The man didn't smile a greeting, but pushed his way into the room and shut the door behind him. The sirens instantly vanished, but the memory of the strange wails remained. Echo was glad the baby was asleep- the sound would give even an adult nightmares.

"You're Miss Jenson, right? You t-teach history." He didn't put the child down, but sat down on the bed to balance her better. His tone was abrupt, nervous, but still soft and courteous.

"Hello, Doctor Kitwake." She replied, sarcastically formal. "You work in a hospital and don't come to nearly enough PTA meetings. Are we done pointing out the obvious?"

"Yes. I mean, no." He said. "I need you to take Leanne and get out of here. There...There's an underground parking lot- I'll give you my keys, the road will take you far away from here before you reach the surface."

Echo gaped at him. "I have no problem with the getting out part. But I thought you'd be going too. She's your daughter."

Kitwake frowned and shifted Leanne to his other shoulder. "I ran in to Katy in the medical wing. I... I work there for a week every month in return for being allowed outside the complex. I didn't realise that my family had been brought in again. I h-hacked into the surveillance files, and they've all been listed on the dangerous lists. P...people on those lists don't live very long." He looked up, his eyes bleak. "You're on there too. Mister Lawrence c-convinced the head Sorrock that you're a threat."

"What are you going to do?" Echo's arms seemed to reach out of their own free will to take the baby. She held her awkwardly, and she stirred in her sleep. Kitwake ruffled Leanne's hair gently and stood up.

"Daniel will be looking for his s-sister." There was more determination in his voice now. "I'm going back to her room to meet him. And I'm going to disconnect all the drainers on my way down." He cracked his knuckles and grinned suddenly. "I have a black mark against my na-name. I might as well earn it!"

"Won't the guards stop you?" Echo's arm was already going numb. She shifted slightly. Kitwake shook his head and handed her a keychain.

"The parking space is on the keychain. Drive quickly and don't stop. There might be s-spidren in the tunnel." He nodded his head in a strange salute once, and ducked out of the room.

"What? Spidren?!" Echo yelled after him, "What do you mean there might be spidren?!" He didn't turn around. The hallway was still full of that strange keening noise, and now she was listening she could hear the distant rattle of gunfire. Strange shadows flitted across the tiny windows faster than a human could run.

Echo shivered, only half believing, and started to run.

Kitwake ran in the opposite direction, along the stainless steel corridor. He ignored the cameras, knowing they were watching him and not caring. Every time he passed a lab he tapped a code into the computerised lock, opening the doors with a pneumatic hiss and powering the room down with a sleepy electronic whine. In each room, people sat up, pulling wires from their hands and looking dazed.

"The building is under attack." The doctor said loudly to each room. "There are no guards left inside. Run while you have the chance!"

Men and women looked at each other, dumb realisation beginning to dawn on their faces. Some whooped and hollered, some stared in mute amazement. Then there was a tidal wave of movement- people running, people yelling, people smashing at machines with abandon. The hallways were soon thick with mobs of people.

Daniel pushed his way rapidly through the crowd, going deeper into the complex rather than heading for the exit. The surging crowds were difficult to get through, but the seething mass of human life hid his journey from the cameras. After a few minutes, though, he realised that it wasn't just human life that teemed along with the corridors.

The immortals had broken through.

Amongst the men and women were lurking shadows of spidren, glittering swooping stormwings, and strange creatures that Daniel couldn't even begin to name. The jubilant people began to panic- the immortals lurked near the exits the crowd had surged towards. The people at the front could not stop, pushed forward by the ones behind, and had no choice but to try to slip past the creatures and out of the doorway. The creatures grinned, their teeth gleaming in the fluorescent light, and attacked at random as they scanned the crowd.

Daniel heard the grating hiss of one of them as it lurched down the corridor, unsteady on its feet. "Whooo knows where the blood is... gets to live." He span around briefly and saw the monster decapitate a sobbing man with one sweep of its wing. The people trapped nearby began to plead with it as it took another step forward. "Whoooooo knows where the bloooood isss..."

Daniel retched and began forcing his way backwards again, but now he was joined by hundreds of other screaming people, all fighting to escape into the maze of passageways. His head start helped him; he broke through the densest part of the crowd and turned into the dead end where the infant dorms were. No-one followed him- even when they were trapped, the people weren't too panicked to run straight into a dead end. He opened the dorm door and slammed it shut, leaning against it and almost sobbing in terror.

"Leanne is safe." A quiet voice said, cutting through the paralysing fear. "I g-gave her to your teacher, and she's taking a safer exit."

Daniel span around. "Dad?"

"Unfortunately s-so." The man smiled and gripped his son's shoulder. "We don't have much time to t-talk. You have to find your friend. I came here to t-tell you something that will help you."

"Help me?" Daniel leaned back against the wall, aware that his heart was still pounding. The screams outside were getting louder, closer. His father smiled sadly.

"Just by telling you about Project 60. You were in it, and s-so was your friend and about t-ten other babies. You two were the only ones who l-lived, and she the only g-gifted. They thought you were a failed experiment. But you're n-not. I f-fixed the results so you could c-come home." He leaned closer. "Project Sixty was created to s-see if the sight could be changed. It's about the eyes. Do you understand?"

Daniel shook his head mutely. His breath had stopped hitching in his throat, but his tired mind was rejecting this new information.

"You have to t-trust your eyes. You can see things other people c-can't. But you have to... to trust it for it to work."

"You experimented on me?" Daniel whispered, choosing the easiest insane point to argue about. His father started to shake his head, and then nodded.

"I don't have time to ex...plain. You have to go to the control cen-centre."

"What are you going to do?" Daniel asked automatically. Kitwake gestured at the rows of cots in the dorm.

"They need to be protected. If you are s-successful then maybe not for long." He stood up straighter, and the sparkle of the gift glittered dangerously in his hands. "Now, go!"

Daniel studied his father's expression for a moment, and then nodded. Without saying a word of farewell he opened the door and slipped out into the screams.


	29. Chapter 29

Katy watched the events on the screens with detached horror. In CCTV-quality black and white, the violence and horror seemed almost unreal. The wall of screens showed a different tragedy in each one, and yet she felt completely safe in the control room.

There had been a secretary, who had run away screaming when Katy brandished the gun. There had been a surveillance guard, who was now too occupied with groaning and clutching his shattered kneecap to be a threat. She had taken his gun away, and now twirled it idly in one hand while she watched the footage.

The main control room was locked, but from what she could see the doors were unfastened and all the drainers had been deactivated. There didn't seem to be much more she could do. Her eyes narrowed as she saw Daniel- finally- struggling through the crowds of panicked people. Even in black and white it was a gory scene. The humans were now their own worst enemies. They shoved at each other, clawing at other humans to get away from the creatures that followed them. The ones that broke through were soon shoved back by the ones behind them. Some slipped on the gore-stained floor, and their mouths opened in silent wails as they struggled to stand up.

Daniel wasn't panicked. He scanned the crowd before leaving his own, deserted corridor, and then sprinted through the clearest path. He squeezed along the wall, keeping his footing, not trying to crawl underneath the crowd like some of the other people. When he broke through the crowd he didn't let anyone pull him back but simply headed down another deserted corridor. Katy smiled- he was following the signs to the control room.

She wondered how she could be so cold about the whole thing. Perhaps it's a delayed shock, she thought, from killing that man. She expected any moment to start screaming and just not stop, but somehow it wasn't needed. The whisper of murderess was lost in the screams of the slaughtered. She smiled for the ones who escaped, but couldn't feel anything for those who fell.

If she had been a better mage, or even had any training, she would have recognised this blanket of coldness for what it really was. She could not see the remnants of dark fire that danced under her skin any more than she could see her skeleton. And even if she could, she could not have identified it as a blessing or as a curse. She glanced at the bangle that was still wrapped around her wrist, wondering if it had belonged to that other murderess, who had shown her how to kill.

The guard groaned more loudly in the corner. She didn't register it until a hand fell heavily on her shoulder, making her spin around with the gun raised.

Daniel stepped back and put his hands up. "Whoa, whoa, it's me." He said. Katy nodded and put the gun away, turning back to the screens.

"More than half of them are making it." She announced, "Do you think it was worth it?"

"No." Daniel spoke without thinking, making her nod again.

"Right. But then, you were down there." She continued watching the screens, fascinated. "Imagine fighting those things off, on your own, for hundreds of years."

"Stop watching it." Daniel's voice was gentle, but there was an edge of steel in it. "It's not right."

"No, it isn't." She agreed, "But it's our fault."

Daniel groaned and stared at the desk underneath the screens. It looked more like a spaceship than a simple surveillance panel, but he eventually found a button marked "power" and flicked it off. The screen went dark.

"Do you think it's enough?" He asked, "Do you think that it will restore the balance?"

Katy blinked and chewed her lip. Somehow she'd forgotten about the balance... watching the crowds struggling for their lives had spoken to her in an odd way.

"Some of them fought with guns." She said, "Those things die quite easily; I think the people outside were just overwhelmed. And if they weren't all packed into a tiny corridor then I don't think more than a few of those people would have died today."

She left the words unsaid, but they drifted through the air as clearly as a bell. They're Immortals... but that doesn't mean they can't die. When they were fought before they had bows and arrows and swords. Now we have guns and flamethrowers and grenades. Now we know how to fight them. Now we know how to fly.

Daniel looked at her oddly. "We've been fighting to protect the barrier, not destroy it."

"But that's not true either, is it?" Her voice had an odd sing song quality to it. "We've been following clues and listening to a book..."

"Where is the book?" The voice was threatening, malicious. The guard in the corner stopped groaning at the sound, turning even more pale. Katy gaped, for the first time losing some of her composure as Lawrence walked calmly through the room. This time he didn't hold an antique sword but a gun, and his smile had been replaced by a look of pure fury. Blood stained his shirt but he didn't limp or favour his arm. He directed the gun straight at Daniel but spoke directly to Katy.

"A bit of advice, girl. If you want to kill a healer, make sure they're dead. Don't leave them seeking revenge."

"Are you here to try to bargain again?" She said, "We won't."

He reached up with one hand and brushed a strand of hair away from his eyes. "No. No more games. You are going to give me the book, and then I am going to kill you both. With the knowledge that book holds I... you will give me the book!"

He screamed the last sentence and pointed the gun directly between Daniel's eyes. Daniel frowned. "How can you read it? You said it's in a different language..."

"I have the letter; I know what it says. I can translate it." The gun didn't waver. "Give me the book."

Daniel looked at Katy, and seemed to make up his mind. Hesitantly, he took the book out of where it was tucked in his pocket and handed it over to the Sorrock. The man held it with one hand while keeping the gun pointed up.

"If you move, I will shoot you." His voice was flat. "If this is not the real book, one of you will lose an arm before you die."

Daniel nodded seriously and leaned over to Katy. "Where's the real book?" He whispered. She blinked and looked up at him. His blue eyes were serious when he saw she had no answer. "I left it in the artefact room. I knew you'd be there."

Her eyes widened in understanding, and she instinctively clutched at her left wrist where the damaged bangle was. At her touch it flickered and grew warm, and turned into the book once again. Checking that Lawrence was still engrossed in the maths textbook he'd been given, she raised the book to her lips and whispered two words too quietly for even Daniel to hear. And then she drew the stormwing feather out of her pocket.

The book understood immediately, and panicked. It shape shifted rapidly- a book, a statue of a goddess, a fragile kitten, a necklace- but her grasp on it was too tight for it to escape. It's last form was a mechanical bird made of bronze and silver wires, delicate and beautiful. It flapped its wings desperately and tried to fly away. Katy hung on grimly.

Lawrence looked up as the book screamed through its avian throat. His face set; he threw the maths book away and fired rapidly- three shots, all headed straight for Katy. The black fire that had been lurking under her skin burst out in a blaze of fire, surrounding her with a shining shield. The bullets glanced off it harmlessly.

Katy gripped the feather in one hand, unaware that the same black fire had surrounded it, and drove it into the mechanical bird's heart.

The world screamed, and she screamed with it, clutching her own chest in agony. The bird fell to the ground, consumed by black flames, writhing and dying and screaming. Lawrence fell next to it clutching his own heart, firing wildly at anything that moved. Daniel dived forward and wrenched the gun from him, barely aware of the bullets flying through the air.

The world screamed.

Many miles away, and as close as a heartbeat, a group of tired men and women sit around a fire in a beautiful forest. They ignore their companions, but think of them with hope in their hearts as the two of them stand next to a fountain. Vines have completely obscured the pedestal, so long has it been there, and yet the two people remember when it was new. They have been staring into the water for days now, trusting in their comrades to protect them, knowing that in their turn they must be the protectors. They are tired, for they haven't slept during their vigil, but now their eyes are bright and alert.

The woman looks up at the man and smiles- an expression that is both loving and filled with unspeakable pain. Her hand creeps up to her heart, but the gesture of pain is more charitable than accusing.

The man forces himself to smile back. He steps away from the pedestal for the first time in days and takes the girl into his arms. They sit beneath the willow tree that overhangs the clearing, out of sight of the people sitting around the fire. The girl leans her head against the man's shoulder, and he strokes her hair gently as her eyes slide shut.

And the world screams.


	30. Chapter 30

"He's dead."

Katy looked up. Even the motion of moving her eyes sent stabs of pain throughout her body. Daniel was kneeling next to Lawrence, who was lying in an ever-growing pool of blood. The statement had been addressed to the surveillance guard, who nodded with wide eyes. The man couldn't move, but had watched the whole scene with ever growing disgust.

"She shouldn't have taken my gun away. I'd have shot him for you, easy." He said, his tone conversational. Daniel turned the body over and scowled. The movement made a bullet graze in his arm start bleeding. Katy guessed she must have been passed out for some time, for it to stop bleeding in the first place.

"He was shot. He must not have healed it properly- just enough to get him walking again- and whatever that thing that just happened was, it must have re-opened the wound. And since a teenage girl managed to get your gun off you in the first place, I don't think you would have shot him at all."

The guard shifted his weight and winced. "Not my fault. You don't 'spect little girls to be walking around with guns."

Daniel glanced at Katy in response the comment, and smiled slightly when he saw that she was awake. She smiled back, and realised that he'd covered her with his jacket. The stupid gesture made her want to cry, and suddenly she couldn't do anything but that. The whole day caught up with her in a rush, and the coldness had completely gone, and all that was left were great heaving sobs that sent pain through her chest. She curled up and sobbed.

"Why did we do it?" She cried, "All those people died because of us! And the book... oh goddess, I destroyed the book, I killed her, I know I did..."

Arms crept around her- cold and lanky arms, but immensely comforting. She leaned against Daniel's shoulder and cried. He rocked her gently and didn't start speaking until she was calmer.

"You were under a spell. I don't know if it made you do it, but it changed you. I saw it when I came into this room. I don't think you should be blaming yourself."

"A spell?" She wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist- an unusually childish gesture for her. "I didn't see a spell."

"I couldn't see it either, until my dad told me to trust my eyes. It was the same magic as Nu- as the book. I think they witched you when they sent that signal spell."

"Why would they do that?" Katy's voice was utterly bewildered, but she remembered the coldness and shivered. Daniel shrugged.

"The only thing I can think of is... when they said you didn't like the sight of blood. Maybe they thought you wouldn't be able to fight, when it came down to it, and they wanted to help you. Maybe they thought that you'd be too emotional to do what was needed."

"Needed?" She sniffed and sat upright, wincing slightly. "They fought back, at the end. The way it changed- and it tried to escape..."

"I don't think that was them. I think it was the book." Daniel stood and helped her up. "When you stabbed it, that black fire fought it with all the strength it could muster. I could feel it draining power from the air, and I'm not even gifted. I think they wanted you to destroy it. But the only way they could talk to us was through the book, and if they'd done that then it would have been on its guard and simply hidden itself. So they had to spell you so you'd be strong enough to do it yourself."

Katy pursed her lips at the thought, not entirely convinced. It didn't help that the guard had pulled himself upright and, cursing at every hop, turned the CCTV screens back on. She didn't want to think about what their plan had created in those corridors.

"The monsters have gone." The guard blurted. Daniel and Katy stared at him.

"What?" Katy managed to say. The guard supremely ignored her and turned to Daniel.

"I'm not talking to her. She shot me in the knee. Tell her that those creatures have all gone."

They had left behind a violent mess, but they had gone. The survivors were walking uncertainly through the corridors, helping those who had been hurt, jumping at every shadow, but no longer in danger.

"It doesn't make sense. There should be more of them if the barrier's broken." Katy's voice was suddenly as tired as she was. "Look- some of those people were stabbed in the heart, too. They're still clutching their chests. Maybe it affected people who were close to the book?"

"It didn't affect us." Daniel looked at the guard, who nodded confirmation. "It could be why the Immortals have gone, too. They were after the book, and the book doesn't exist anymore. There's no more point to them being here, and they probably killed enough people to satisfy whatever violence they wanted to carry out. They'll still be out there."

The guard turned off the cameras. "If our lot want to survive, they're going to have to use mages to fight against those things. They use magic; we can't just shoot at them and hope it gets through their shields. I guess they'll have to lift the mage ban. My car is near here." He changed subject quickly, making both teenagers jump. "If one of you will drive, I'm sure you'd like to go home. Somewhere sane. You'll have to get me to a hospital, though."

Katy saw the next few hours in a dream. They had left the control room silently, stepping over Lawrence and the dust of the book as if they were nothing. The hallways were scenes from a nightmare, but in her world of weariness nothing seemed real. They climbed down two flights of steel stairs into the car park, where she climbed into the back seat and promptly fell asleep.

Daniel drove carefully, instructed by the guard whose name he never found out. The road, so threatening and bleak when they had arrived, was now a ruin of tarmac and rubble. The Sorrocks had fought the Immortals with guns and grenades, and the bodies of hundreds littered the ground. The smaller bodies of men and women in uniform lay among them, many of them shot in the blind panic of battle rather than killed by the monsters. Some of the immortals moved- gravely injured, or slinking away. They had learned to respect and scorn the humans in the same hour, but as he had said, they seemed to have sated their lust for violence... for the time being. After a few miles the road cleared, but he still drove slowly, weariness making him clumsy. Every time a silhouette crossed the sky he jumped, not knowing whether it was a bird or something with far deadlier claws.

When they got to the hospital to drop off the guard, he waited in the car in the parking lot, watching the sky. The immortals flitted gracefully through it- not dangerous from this distance, but the elegant creatures of legend and fantasy. As his eyes began to slide shut, he could almost imagine the shape of a dragon was among them.

The rapping of crutches on the door woke him up. The guard looked a lot more cheerful, his leg bound up with a healing charm and a packet of painkillers in his pocket. Daniel asked him if he wanted to drive, which he happily turned down- the pills forbade it. Daniel was quite sure that driving without a licence was illegal too, but he bit his tongue. Any policeman stopping the car would ask more about the three bloodstained passengers than the lack of documentation.

The guard's house was closest to Katy's, so that's where they walked after they dropped him off at home. When they got in they collapsed onto armchairs and sofas and fell asleep.

When the world changes, it does not make a sound or suddenly decide one day to be different. If Daniel and Katy had expected everything to be different when they woke up, they would have been disappointed. Any letter written during those first few weeks would not have been about revolution, or freedom, or truth- although for the hundreds of people who had escaped from the mausoleum of the Sorrocks, these words had sweet meaning for the first time in years. Families were reunited, friends met once again, and the gloom of suspicion began to lift. People were no longer being judged on their gift, or lack of, but on their strength during those weeks.

For the change of this world had started with a scream.

Families drew together in fear, not in camaraderie. For the first time in centuries, the idea of a vendetta against other humans became absurd against the terror of the Immortals. Gradually, the people began to learn how to survive, how to defend themselves, and they once again began to sleep at night.

When Daniel's house was rebuilt, it was with much smaller windows and much stronger doors. By the time it was finished, he'd learned to recognise the distant sounds of the creatures, and he'd learned when to run away. The scar on his arm reminded him that, if he needed to, he could fight. But he had tasted that cup, and he found it too bitter to stomach. He spent the last warm days of autumn playing with his sister in the garden. His mother had not suggested that he go back to school after Echo had brought Leanne back to her and explained in the briefest words what had happened. The soft autumn days helped him forget, and the first snows of winter seemed brighter than any he had seen before. Katy had returned to school, but for a different reason- the school had begun mage training classes, and she was desperate to learn. But she didn't let a day go past when she didn't play in the garden, or spend some time with Daniel.

Neither of them spoke about anything that had happened. The words were always unspoken, as was the guilt whenever a report came on the radio of another massacre. Their eyes would meet and glance quickly away, and that would say all they wanted to say. After a few weeks of winter, Katy suggested that Daniel start going to the classes with her to train his "sight". Neither of them knew if it was true, or real, or not; Doctor Kitwake had never emerged from the ruins of the headquarters.

The midwinter festival came in a flurry of food and games. Daniel spent half the day with his mum and Leanne, and then spent the afternoon with Katy. Her house was colder, less cheerful. Her father had run away with the rebels after the headquarters fell, knowing that if his connection to the facility had been uncovered the disgusted public would have descended on him. Katy had taken over the house and property, and was living off the savings he had left her. That afternoon, they decided that they would walk around the park while it was still light and reasonably safe.

They walked in companionable silence. Both kept one hand near the pistols they both still wore from the headquarters, but this was just a precaution- the park was well lit, and they knew the Immortals preferred to leap from the shadows. The other hands were wrapped around each other, although if either had been asked why they would have said that it was to ward off the chill.

It only took a split second for Daniel to draw his pistol when Katy stopped short in the snow and gasped in alarm. He could see no danger- only a few people standing around the park- and glanced at her in confusion. She took the gun from him and put the safety catch back on, and then nodded towards two of the people. They were standing deep in conversation, but what fragments of their voices could be heard weren't in any recognisable language.

"Dear Mithros, it's them." Katy whispered, turning pale, "It's really them, and they're alive."

"Should we go and talk to them?" Daniel whispered back. Before Katy could answer, the two figures had turned and started walking towards them. Katy trembled and gripped Daniel's elbow as they got closer.

They stopped and smiled. Daniel smiled back, willing Katy to grow a backbone, for Mithros' sake! They looked only slightly older than they had in the pictures- slightly older, and thinner, but with the same inner vitality that made them almost appear to glow in the winter light. He blinked, and the glow faded- and they were different again. The man's hair was longer, but neater, and his eyes had lost some of the warmth that they'd had in the pictures. The girl's hair had a single streak of violent white on one side, and she was a lot thinner and paler as if she'd been ill. Both of them wore modern clothes, but on them they managed to look timeless- their long coats would not have looked out of place in one of the drawings, and their shoes were good stout leather.

Daine caught him staring at her and suddenly winked, completely throwing him off balance. She grinned at his expression and said something to Numair in that strange language, which made him smile. Daniel realised he'd been mistaken- the mage's eyes had lost none of their warmth, they glowed with it when they looked at her. Their smiles were infectious- he found himself smiling back.

"Hello," he said, wondering if they would understand. Their smiles both widened in reply.

"Hello back." Daine's voice was softer than he'd imagined it to be. He guessed his surprise showed on his face when she pulled a face and said, "We have listened to this language for hundreds of years. I bet we can speak it better than you can."

"I wasn't thinking that!" His voice was instantly defensive, "It's just... I thought you would sound like you write. I know that sounds idiotic."

She laughed again. "Perhaps. But I bet I've thought things that are even worse."

"I'm sure you have." Numair told her seriously, "I could probably remember quite a few if you want an example." She pulled a face at him until his seriousness evaporated and he grinned. "But we haven't spoken to new people in a long time, and we're being discourteous. Good afternoon, Daniel and Katy."

Katy looked up briefly, smiled shyly at them, and then ducked her head again. Daine asked Numair something in their own language, and when he nodded she smiled again.

"We wanted to talk to you. Properly. We're not here for long. Is there anywhere we can go where it's not so cold?" Her voice became playful in a way that was not quite realistic- looking at her sturdy clothes Daniel imagined that she was very used to bearing the cold.

"My house." Katy's voice appeared from somewhere near her feet. "There's no-one there, and it's not too far." Daine stared at her for a moment, looking genuinely bewildered, and then her smile appeared again.

"Sounds good! Why don't you show me the way there, and we can chat on the way down?"

Daniel disentangled his arm from Katy's, who honestly looked quite terrified at the thought, and pushed her forward. Daine took hold of her hand and almost pulled her along, swinging her hand like a child and laughing as she spoke. Katy smiled, then started laughing with her as they walked. The two men followed a few paces behind in a more sedate manner, both trying not to laugh.

"Can I ask you a question?" Daniel asked after a few minutes. The older man looked amused.

"You can ask. Whether or not I'll be able to answer is another matter." He smiled to make the statement less serious and waited politely. Daniel thought of how to phrase it, carefully walking around a patch of ice as he did.

"Why do you speak in the old language if you can speak this one?"

"Because it is ours." Numair said simply. He seemed to think this was enough of an answer until he caught sight of the boy's bewildered expression. "Well, I suppose for more reasons than that. The first reason...It is from and of our time. It is the language our friends spoke to us in. It is the language of our marriage vows, and the language our daughter spoke her first word in. All our memories are in a language that you would call 'dead'. It is important for us to keep something of our own in a world that doesn't belong to us anymore."

"And...w hat's the second reason?" Daniel asked, trying not to show how uncomfortable the reply had made him feel. Numair shook snow out of his hair with an impatient gesture.

"How else can we talk of what is past? When you speak to Katy about what happened a few months ago, do you speak in loud words that your neighbours can hear? Do you speak simply, so your sister Leanne can understand your talk of blood and suffering?"

"No," Daniel said, taken aback, "We can't talk. We know when the other one is thinking about it, and we know when to say nothing."

Numair nodded and said something in his language that sounded like an agreement. He smiled and translated it, "Yes, to say nothing is often best. This is why I'm going to tell you something now, and you will not tell either Daine or Katy that you know of it. You may tell Katy when we leave if you wish, but no-one else." He stopped short in his tracks. Daniel looked worrying around at the sky, which was nearly black and could hide anything. Numair laughed at the worry on his face.

"I can handle anything the sky throws at us, don't worry! And Katy will be perfectly safe with Daine, provided that she doesn't annoy her. Now, I want to tell you why we are here."

Daniel blinked, "Didn't you say it because you wanted to talk, and that's why we're going to Katy's?"

Numair shook his head. "No, we will go there and thank you for all you've done, which is ridiculous because all four of us are beyond words now. We will argue over who did more, and who deserves more thanks, and we will end up exactly the same as we are now. After tonight you will never see either of us again, and that will be a good thing. We all have memories we'd like to forget, and I don't want to have to talk about what happened with the book more than once in my life. But it is important that you know.

"You know that the book is...was... linked to Daine by blood. Her link to it was absolute. She didn't know it when she linked herself, but she was pregnant with our first daughter and accidently linked her to the spell as well. Her link was only half as powerful. Her children then had a quarter of the link, and so on. Thankfully, all our closer descendants are now with the Black God, so they wouldn't suffer the pain of the link being severed.

"The strongest link in this realm was Lawrence, who was obviously aware of it to some extent- hence his fascination with the book and everything connected to it. His connection was less than a ten-thousandth of a pure link, and yet the book held that much power over him! Your Katy and most of the other people affected were of the next generation. Although their link was still viable, for some reason the presence of the strongest link negates all other links.

"Mark you the pain that he suffered, and think how diluted his connection to the book was! Do you understand why I will not discuss this near Daine?"

"Dear Gods..." Daniel breathed, "How is she still alive?"

Numair smiled, but this time the expression was bitter. "The dear Gods had much to do with it. We were in a place where we were unable to die, apart from being slain in battle. I knew what I was doing when I helped to destroy that book, but by Shakith, if I had that choice again I would not do it. I put her to sleep- the sleep alone would have killed her in this realm- and even that close to the darkness she was still in torment for weeks. Less immortals attacked us in that time- Alanna thought it was because of the barrier, but I swear by Minos that her screams kept them away." He took a deep breath, his eyes hollow, "And I knew that all this would happen when I sent the fire through the book."

"But it had to be done," Daniel echoed the unspoken thought. The mage looked at him.

"Did it?" His voice suddenly sounded much older. "I will atone for it for my whole life. Every time I see that white streak in her hair, or see the scar it carved above her heart, my own heart will desperately beg for forgiveness. And yet I cannot speak to her about it, because she chose it for herself. She smiled at me when the book was destroyed, knowing more than I did the thrall of that spell over her and choosing it despite all. And all my life I will regret not having the strength to stop her binding herself to that book in the first place."

"What will you do?" Daniel asked, after a pause. They started walking again slowly. Numair shrugged.

"We have lived for centuries, and yet we have seen nothing and done nothing. It will be a novelty just to be alive again. Technically, we're still young." The corner of his mouth twitched in wry amusement. "Maybe we'll explore the world, or explore the oceans. We'll dress in these strange modern clothes, and meet new people, and speak your garish language, and one day we'll die. And that's more than we've had to look forward to for untold years."

"But you'll never see us again." Daniel finished, and this time there was no sense of loss but an understanding that went beyond words. The mage smiled and walked on in silence.

They walked together under the amber streetlights. The snow drifted gently down, filling their footprints until they'd completely disappeared.


End file.
